Popularity Brings Friends and Enemies
by AgentPersephone
Summary: Oliver Wood finds himself center of an age old prophecy with his Seeker, OC Paris Knightley. Bring on romance, humour, violence and sadness as they find out just how Popularity can bring Friends and Enemies. {COMPLETE but re-doing}
1. Start of the End

**A/N: **Ok, I've decided that I'm going to go through this whole fanfiction to add and cut as I see fit because this is my baby and I'm not happy with it. There needs to be much more description for one thing!

It's been knocked down to PG-13 because in all honesty, it doesn't need to be R...there's little in it that makes it an R really, few bits of violence, some innuendos and a little swearing here and there.

Just a note – I've cut Harry, Hermione, Ron, Draco and Ginny from this because at the time, I didn't want to write for 'proper' characters...just felt weird. It's strange but it works for me, at least I haven't got tons of characters to write for!

**Disclaimer: **Don't own anything you recognize – just my OC's. Although sometimes I wish I did own Oliver Wood...tee hee.

* * *

**Chapter One - Start of the End.**

"It's our last year," Paris Knightley sighed to herself. She rested her chin on her knees and looked into the gold pink sunset. The sun could just be seen beyond the mountains, giving them a hazy golden glow.  
  
Paris looked left toward the Forbidden Forest, its mass of trees looking quite threatening. Some birds flew into the sky, making distant sounding caws. Paris shivered under her thick black school robe even though it was a warm evening. To her right, the lake reflected the sun, giving the surface a pinky sheen. Its waters were still and calm, the complete opposite to the Forest.  
  
"Percy! Don't scratch the bottom of my trunk!" Marino Morrissey screeched at Percy Weasley, who was looking very frustrated and having a very hard time lugging two rather large trunks up the stone steps that Paris was sat at the top of.  
  
"I'm trying not to," Percy said through gritted teeth as he heaved Marino's trunk to the very top of the steps. It landed with a dull thud next to Paris, making her robes flutter.  
  
"Honestly, I should've just done it myself!" Marino flustered and retrieving her wand from her own robes. "Locomotor trunk!" She commanded and the trunk instantly hovered off the floor and obediently followed Marino into the castle.  
  
"Did she? Did you just see?" Percy stuttered, staring after Marino who had disappeared into a crowd of students, her blonde curls bobbing under her pointed black hat.  
  
"Sit down," Paris said softly and Percy collapsed next to her, panting with exhaustion and anger. His long legs dangled down at least five steps.  
  
Paris watched the student's mill around, all chatting excitably about their summers and laughing at new haircuts or styles. It would be the last time Paris would ever start a new year at Hogwarts and she wanted to make the most of it.  
  
"Head Boy? Oh Head Boy? Where art thou?" a very familiar voice called in a sing-song voice. Percy groaned and pressed his palms into his eyes as he rolled over onto his stomach.  
  
"Well looky looky, it's the Head Boy and Girl. I feel honored Fred," George Weasley said to his twin. They were identical down to the last freckle and were the bane of their older brother Percy's life.  
  
"Such an honor to be in your presence, your graces," Fred Weasley said, bowing deeply and smacking his forehead on the stone. "Ouch!"  
  
"Serves you right," Paris said but she was grinning in the same fashion as the twins. Fred rubbed his forehead and sat down also. George was looking around, his hand shielding his eyes from the failing sunlight.  
  
"Shouldn't you be yelling at midgets?" Fred asked Percy, leaning back to look at him casually.  
  
"Don't call them midgets," Paris said mildly, watching what George was doing.  
  
"Why? Going to put me in detention? Make me do lines? Cane me? Oh please let it be the latter," Fred said in a slimy voice. Paris rolled her eyes and without a backward glance, cursed Fred with a tickling charm.  
  
Whilst Fred was writhing on the steps, laughing hysterically and making quite a scene, Paris got up and left, jogging down the stone steps of the castle easily. She had spotted who she was waiting for.  
  
"Oliver," Paris said softly as she approached him. Oliver Wood looked up at her, grinning slightly. His face was unusually tan and he seemed taller.  
  
"Well, if it isn't the Head Girl. Better watch my step," He teased. Paris grinned and threw her arms around him.  
  
"Good to see you," Paris said when they parted. "How was your summer?"  
  
"Good thanks, I went to Greece," Oliver said as they began walking back toward the castle.  
  
"I can see that," Paris said, looking at him again. She couldn't believe slightly browner skin could make someone look so...good.  
  
"How about you?" Oliver asked.  
  
"Working mainly. Spent most of my spare time playing Quidditch with Fred and George," Paris said, knowing she'd just scored some Brownie points.  
  
"What I like to hear, my team practicing," Oliver said proudly.  
  
"Alright there, Wood?" George cat-called. Fred was still hysterical.  
  
"George," Oliver said with a nod. "What's up with Fred?" He said in an undertone to Paris.  
  
"I cursed him. _Fin _," Paris said pointing her wand and stopping the invisible hands tickling Fred's ribs.  
  
"You...bloody...bitch..." Fred panted, clutching his sides.  
  
"You didn't just swear did you, Master Weasley?" Paris said, pointing her wand at him again. "Do I have to leave the spell on a little longer?"  
  
"No! No! Sorry! No more!" Fred said frantically, scrabbling away. Paris smiled at Oliver before heading into the castle herself, to help the first years settle in.  
  
"And I thought Old Perce would be the nasty one," Fred said, standing up, clutching his sides. "She's a maniac."  
  
"Yeah, she certainly has, er, changed," Oliver replied, staring after Paris who was surrounded by students wanting to know passwords or ways to common rooms. He ruffled the back of his short brown hair, watching Paris answer questions and laugh with the new students.  
  
"There's Angelina! My life, my soul, my love!" George called to a tall black girl who did not look impressed.  
  
"Please," Angelina Johnson said scathingly before turning to Oliver with a changed expression. "Hi Oliver."  
  
"Hi Angelina," Oliver replied, trying not to snicker at the crestfallen George.  
  
"Katie! Alicia! My other loves!" George then called at the two girls following behind Angelina, clutching his heart and beating his eyelashes wistfully.  
  
"Nice try," Katie Bell said, walking past him. "Hi Oliver."  
  
"Hello," Oliver replied, laughing slightly and folding his arms.  
  
"Paris has taught me that tickling charm," Alicia Spinnet warned George, poking him in the chest with her wand. "Alright, Wood?"  
  
"Hello Alicia," Oliver said, putting a hand over his mouth so he could laugh openly.  
  
"Another great year for the ladies, I suppose," George said sarcastically as the three girls bee-lined for Paris.  
  
"Well not for you perhaps. I'm the cute twin," Fred said, now fully recovered.  
  
George rolled his eyes and all four boys entered the castle with a great sense of pride. They all walked in like they owned the place, heads held high and proud.  
  
"Quick Perce! A second year using magic in the corridors!" Fred said, pointing to a group of boys who were levitating someone's underwear. Percy put on his best strict face and marched over. They could already hear him bellowing and handing out detentions.  
  
"Come on, shall we go to the Feast?" George asked Paris when they reached the girls who were chatting in a corner, away from all the hustle and bustle.  
  
"Yeah, we were then going to -," Paris was cut off by a cold, sneering voice.  
  
"Well, well, well. If it isn't the new Head Girl. Who are these, your body guards?" Marcus Flint leered, striding toward the group. Andy Warrington and Adam Montague followed in his wake.  
  
Paris turned to look at Marcus, disgust wrinkling her pretty face.  
  
"If it isn't Marcus Flint and his traveling circus. Want a banana, boys?" Fred said sarcastically with a smile. Warrington and Montague stiffened, tightening their fists.  
  
"Why don't you sod off, Marcus?" Angelina said, her black eyes flashing menacingly. A cold smile curled on Marcus' lips.  
  
"Why don't you make me?" He said quietly to Angelina. "Or will Paris put me in detention if I don't?" He smiled sarcastically at Paris.  
  
"The last thing I'd want is to supervise you in a room for three hours," Paris spat, folding her arms defensively across her chest.  
  
"Never know, you may just enjoy it," Marcus replied, raising his eyebrows and smiling horribly.  
  
"That's it," Fred said, drawing his wand from his wands and pointing it at Marcus in one fluid movement.  
  
"Don't!" Paris warned desperately, pushing his wand away immediately. She was surprised to see Oliver had done the same. "Oliver, don't. Please," Paris pleaded. She really didn't want to be in the middle of a duel on her first day as Head Girl.  
  
"Come on Wood, let's see you duel. If your Quidditch is anything to go by, I doubt it'll be a problem," Marcus taunted, also pulling his wand. Now there were wands pointing everywhere, from everyone.  
  
"Go into the Great Hall Marcus, now!" Paris ordered, motioning him away with her own wand. No-one moved.  
  
"Now!" Paris shouted but he still didn't budge.  
  
"I don't take orders from Mudbloods," Marcus said in a dangerous whisper.  
  
Everything then happened in a blur. Angelina, Katie and Alicia made noises of disgust, Fred lunged at Marcus but missed and ended up fighting with Montague, George helped his twin brother and Oliver punched Marcus square in the face. Curses and hexes were flying everywhere and soon, most of the corridor was involved.  
  
"What is going on here?" a woman's voice commanded angrily. Paris closed her eyes, it was Professor McGonagall. Paris knew she wouldn't be pleased that the Head Girl was in the middle of a riot.  
  
"Expelliarmis!" Professor McGonagall shouted, disarming the whole corridor. Around thirty wands clattered at her feet. "Miss Knightley! Explain yourself!"  
  
Her mouth was set in a thin line and her eyes were narrowed straight at Paris. Her face was very white and she was practically shaking with anger.  
  
"It was Flint!" Fred piped up, shoving Montague from him.  
  
"He was causing trouble! And saying horrible things," Angelina added.  
  
"Someone hit me with a curse!"  
  
"I got punched in the stomach!"  
  
"My leg is a chicken!"  
  
The corridor was all talking at once and Professor McGonagall was getting angrier and angrier.  
  
"ENOUGH! Those hurt or in need of medical assistance, hospital wing! Everyone but the Head Girl, go!" She demanded and everyone obeyed, picking up their wands silently.  
  
"But Miss..." Fred tried but Professor McGonagall glared at him and he hurried away.  
  
"What on earth went on here?" Professor McGonagall inquired when the corridor was empty.  
  
"Slytherin's getting out of hand. You know how they rile the Gryffindor's up," Paris sighed feebly. She should've controlled the situation properly but she wasn't prepared to start telling tales on people.  
  
"As Head Girl it is your duty to stop corridor duels, not start them. You are a seventh year who should be setting examples for younger students who will look up to you. I'm very disappointed Paris," Professor McGonagall said, shaking her head. Paris felt awful, something Professor McGonagall was very good at making people feel.  
  
"Sorry Professor. It won't happen again," Paris said.  
  
"Take your wand and on your way," Professor McGonagall said and Paris obeyed, feeling humiliated and a disappointment to her Head of House.  
  
"Are you alright Paris?" Fred asked when Paris entered the Great Hall and sat down at the Gryffindor table. He sounded genuinely concerned.  
  
"Why'd you lot have to do that?" Paris scolded, slumping down between Marino and Angelina.  
  
"He called you a, a well you know," Fred said indignantly. "What do you expect us to do, shake his hand and say well done?" Paris rubbed her eye with her fist wearily.  
  
"He's right Par," Marino said quietly, which was rather unusual. She very rarely agreed with anything the twins said.  
  
"It's just an insult, it doesn't matter to me. What matters is you lot getting into trouble and me getting the blame!" Paris snapped. Everyone went quiet.  
  
"Why didn't you tell me you were Muggle-born?" Oliver said softly. Paris looked across the table at him.  
  
"Does it matter?" Paris said defensively.  
  
"No," Oliver replied with a half shrug. "It's nothing to be ashamed about though." Paris stared at him, open mouthed at his comment.  
  
"I'm not ashamed," She said quietly. "It's my business, not yours."  
  
"But we're your friends," Angelina interjected.  
  
Paris felt frustrated. Why was everyone making a big deal out of it? She didn't want to be teased or felt sorry for because of it.  
  
"My parents are Muggles then, I'm a Mudblood," Paris said loudly.  
  
"Don't say that," George said, looking around. "You're not a Mudblood, you're Muggle-born. Better still, you're a witch and it's all that matters."  
  
"Right so let's forget it," Paris said and turned her attention to her roast beef.

- - -  
  
That night, when Paris was in her dormitory and all her things had been packed away, she lay in her luxurious four poster bed and drew the hangings, hiding her from Marino and the other girls she shared with. She snuggled down in the velvety scarlet bedcovers and began to think.  
  
There was one question on her mind. How had Marcus found out about her parents?  
  
The only people that knew Paris was a Muggle-born were The Weasley family and they wouldn't've told anyone, especially Marcus. Fred and George were overly protective and Percy just wasn't the type to tell secrets.  
  
"_Actually_," a small voice in Paris' head said. "_The Diggory's know too_."  
  
The Diggory's were the other wizarding family that lived near Paris and the Weasley's. Their son, Cedric was the same age as Paris but he was a Hufflepuff. They were most surprised when Mrs. Weasley told them Paris had received her admissions letter. Surprised but happy for her.  
  
"Cedric wouldn't've told Marcus," Paris said to herself. She was good friends with Cedric and knew he hated Marcus. Plus he wasn't the gossipy type; he wouldn't spread that sort of stuff about Hufflepuff Tower. Never.  
  
Being a Muggle-born was fairly rare, less and less magical children were being born into Muggle families but it happened. Many people didn't like the fact Muggle-born's were allowed at Hogwarts, to be taught along side pure-bloods.  
  
Paris rolled over and cleared her mind, something she was getting very good at. She began to think about Oliver instead. How he had pulled his wand on Marcus straight away when he had threatened her, how nice he looked when Paris saw him earlier, all tanned and stronger looking.  
  
She and Oliver had never been particularly close, they had been on the same team for seven years but that was the extent of it. They chatted and Paris considered him a friend but not one she'd go out of her way for. When Paris saw Oliver earlier today, she felt something inside her shift. Her mutual respect and tolerance had turned into something much deeper and Paris liked it.  
  
"And he was actually smiling, for once," She smiled to herself.  
  
Pulling the duvet right up to her chin, Paris squeezed her eyes shut and with a dozy smile, hoped for a dream involving Oliver Wood, saving the day.


	2. Friends and Enemies

"Oh, look at my timetable! Double Divination then double History of Magic!" Fred moaned, screwing up the yellow piece of parchment and shoving it into his pocket.  
  
Professor McGonagall was striding down the length of Gryffindor table the next morning, handing out timetables.  
  
Paris was looking glumly at her own timetable; she had her worst lesson first: Potions with Professor Snape.  
  
"We've got Potions first," Percy said to Paris.  
  
"So've I," Oliver added. They all looked equally unimpressed at the prospect of a morning of being shouted at and bending over simmering potions.  
  
"Guess who I'll be sitting near?" Paris said sarcastically, looking over her shoulder at Marcus Flint. She went back to stirring her porridge with her spoon.  
  
"You might not," Oliver offered but they all knew how much Snape loved putting Paris near Marcus, his joy would increase ten fold this year as Paris was Head Girl.  
  
"I'll see you in Care of Magical Creatures then," Paris said to Marino when it was time to go. Marino didn't do Potions so had the first part of the morning off.  
  
"Good luck," She murmured and helped herself to some more bacon.  
  
"I'll try and sit near you," Percy said when they left the Great Hall.  
  
"OK," Paris replied. "But you'll waste your time. Another year of sitting near that obnoxious, ignorant, evil b -."  
  
"Not talking about anyone I know now are you?" Marcus asked in his sneering voice. No matter what he said, he always spoke like he had just won a very difficult argument.  
  
"Yeah, you," Oliver said before anyone else realized who it was.  
  
"Well, are you going to finish your sentence then?" Marcus asked Paris, looking directly into her eyes. She shivered right to her bones.  
  
"She'd better not, or I'll be reporting her to the Headmaster," Professor Snape had appeared from what seemed no where. He could've been Marcus' father except Snape was more vicious than Marcus could ever dream of being. Paris, Percy and Oliver all glared at Marcus but said nothing.  
  
"Didn't doubt you wouldn't follow up on your threat. Get in my classroom in silence," Snape said irritably.  
  
The four students entered their Potions classroom, one that hadn't changed since their first year. It was badly lit, damp and cold and didn't inspire anyone to learn.  
  
"You, Knightley. At the front. Flint, you too. Wood at the back," Snape barked. Paris gave Percy and Oliver a significant glance and slumped into her seat. Her arm was touching Marcus' and it took all her will power not to gag.  
  
"Are you alright?" Percy asked, catching up to Paris after Potions. She was walking so quickly, Percy was practically jogging along side her.  
  
Her chest was heaving and her breaths were ragged but Paris held her head high until she was out of earshot from everyone, especially Marcus and Snape.  
  
The two friends stopped in the court yard for their five minute break and when Paris was out of view, she burst into hot, angry tears.  
  
Percy allowed her to cry angrily for a few moments, watching her intently. Paris stopped abruptly with a hiccup and forcefully wiped her tears. She then kicked a stone wall and cried out in both pain and frustration.  
  
"Sorry, Perce," Paris said thickly, looking up at him with red, puffy eyes.  
  
"Let it be water off a ducks back," Percy said softly. "Don't give them the satisfaction." Paris nodded to the ground. She felt angry with herself but she deserved to be upset a little. There was a not so distant sounding explosion that made Percy jerk his head around.  
  
"OI! WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU ARE DOING?" He roared and strode off, leaving Paris to sit by herself on a rather uncomfortable stone wall.  
  
She regulated her breathing and tried to calm down.  
  
Never in her whole life had she ever been so humiliated or had she let Marcus or Snape get to her and make her cry.  
  
"Hey!" Oliver said, stopping next to Paris, quite out of breath. "I've been looking everywhere for you!"  
  
"Why?" Paris asked, wiping her eyes self-consciously.  
  
"Are you alright? Have you been crying?" Oliver asked, in the same concerned but angry way he did when he spoke about Quidditch matches.  
  
"I'm fine, fine," Paris said, trying to sound as if she was. Oliver didn't look convinced.  
  
"You should go to Professor McGonagall about them," Oliver said lightly, sitting down on the wall too but facing the other way to Paris.  
  
"Not worth it. I want to forget it," Paris said, picking her fingernail. She heard Oliver sigh but he said no more.  
  
The bell signaled the end of break and they both stood up.  
  
"I'll walk with you," Oliver said. Paris said nothing, she just felt horrible.  
  
"I don't want Fred and George to know about this," Paris said suddenly as they walked over the lush green grass toward the Forbidden Forest for their next lesson.  
  
"Fine," Oliver said with a sigh.  
  
Paris forced a smile as they neared their class; Marino was waving her frantically over. Paris touched Oliver's arm briefly and looked up at him. She looked into his brown eyes, searching for a question but she knew she had his word.  
  
"Where've you been?" Marino shrieked, pulling Paris away from Oliver and toward the gaggle of girls Marino had set up.  
  
Oliver watched Paris laugh at something but it wasn't a laugh that reached her green eyes. They remained hurt and worried.  
  
"Good mornin' class an welcome back to yeh final year!" Professor Hagrid said cheerfully. Hagrid was a rather enormous man with a big black, bushy beard and hair. Paris liked him a lot.  
  
"Now, this year we're doin' all sorts of projects so get in pairs, boy girl," Hagrid said. Oliver saw Marino give Hagrid a most offended look, as she didn't deem any boy good enough to be her partner. Oliver walked rather quickly toward Paris, not really knowing why. He slipped his hand in hers and made her jump.  
  
"Partners?" He whispered. Paris, her eyes wide with surprise, nodded. He led her away from the group of girls and they stood to the side away from everyone, not speaking.  
  
"Everyone got a partner? Righ', this is what I want yeh to do today. Take out yeh sketch books and I want yeh to go in the Forest and lure out a Nymph and draw 'im. OK? Everyone remember how?" Hagrid asked. The class chorused a 'yeah' and set off into the Forest.  
  
Paris and Oliver picked their way into the Forest, looking for signs that a Nymph was close. The trick was to look for holes in trees that were quite low down or teeth marks in leaves.  
  
"They won't be this close to the edge, we'll have to go in deeper," Paris said, taking out her wand.  
  
"Are you sure you're alright?" Oliver asked after about five minutes of venturing into the Forest. It was getting darker and darker with each step they took.  
  
"I'm fine, I've been in the Forest before," Paris replied over her shoulder.  
  
"That's not what I mean," Oliver said quietly. Paris stopped abruptly and turned.  
  
"I am fine. I do not want to talk about Potions, got it?" She said, staring right at Oliver.  
  
"I'm concerned Paris. I know you were crying, you never cry. You didn't even cry when we lost the Cup last year," Oliver argued.  
  
"What, like you did?" Paris said, half jokingly. Oliver didn't look one bit impressed. Paris continued walking, leaving Oliver no choice but to follow her. They were very deep now and couldn't hear anyone's voices.  
  
"OK!" Paris said, turning around so quick, it frightened Oliver so much he almost fell over. "It upset me and I was crying. Is that what you want to hear?"  
  
"You know it isn't! All I'm saying is I'm here if you want me," Oliver said, regaining his breathing. Paris' expression softened ever so slightly.  
  
"I do want you," She said without looking away from Oliver.  
  
"Then I'm here," He said in barely a whisper. His heart was hammering against his chest, making him feel quite sick. Paris stepped toward him, not knowing where she would go from that.  
  
"My life isn't a bed of roses," Paris said in a low voice. Oliver brought his hand up to her face and brushed her hair away from her cheek. He left his hand resting against her face.  
  
"I understand," He replied in an almost growl. Paris closed her eyes slowly and opened them again. Oliver looked into her eyes, he had never been so close to her before and realized just how green her eyes were. He saw tiny blue bolts amongst the green and felt like he could watch them all day.  
  
"Oliver," Paris said, her breath warmed his nose.  
  
Without thinking, Oliver stepped the tiny bit closer to Paris that he had to and he kissed her. He brought his other hand up and held her face between his hands.  
  
There they stood, in the middle of the Forbidden Forest, everything forgotten and instead concentrating on each other.  
  
Paris put her hands around Oliver's waist, feeling his Quidditch trained body under his school uniform. Their bodies touched as Paris got closer to him; their chests both exhaling and inhaling air at the same time.  
  
"Paris," Oliver uttered, pulling away from her. Paris felt his warmth leave her and her demons return.  
  
"What?" She replied, looking up at him with sleepy eyes.  
  
"I, I, we shouldn't," He stuttered but neither of them moved.  
  
"Why?" Paris breathed. "Why not?"  
  
"I don't know," Oliver admitted. There was no reason why he shouldn't just shut up and continue kissing the beautiful yet mysterious girl in front of him who he had known for seven years but never really got to know.  
  
"Please. It makes me forget everything," Paris pleaded and Oliver kissed her once again.  
  
They stayed there until they heard Hagrid's booming voice cut through the trees, telling everyone to make their way back.  
  
Paris and Oliver walked back through the trees quickly, clutching their blank sketch books but holding each other's hands.  
  
"How'd yeh get on?" Hagrid asked Paris and Oliver as they emerged from the trees. "Manage to get anything?"  
  
"Yeah," Paris said absently.  
  
"Good, good! Finish it off fer homework an hand it in next lesson," Hagrid said happily.  
  
Paris and Oliver, no longer holding hands made their way toward the Great Hall for lunch, both feeling an incredible weight lifted from their shoulders.  
  



	3. Quidditch

"Team, listen up!" Oliver Wood commanded. He was pacing Gryffindor's changing room, looking thoroughly agitated. "We were supposed to be playing Hufflepuff today but they've forfeited. So we've got Slytherin."  
  
"WHAT?" was the reply he got followed by an uproar.  
  
"Slytherin? But we haven't prepared for them!" Angelina argued. She had jumped up immediately when Oliver had said 'Slytherin.'  
  
"There's more," Oliver said looking at Paris. A whole week had passed since their kiss in the Forbidden Forest and neither of them had said much about it.  
  
"More?" Paris echoed, looking rather petrified. Slytherin were a nasty team and it took a lot for Gryffindor to work themselves up for it.  
  
"They've got a new Seeker. Pansy Parkinson," Oliver said in a hollow voice. The team groaned and Paris put a hand over her eyes. Pansy was probably the nastiest girl in school, and she was only a fifth year.  
  
"She's new and barely had any practice but she'll still play as hard as the rest. Just remember we're the best – ruddy – team out there," Oliver said, pounding his fist with his hand.  
  
"Here, here!" Fred and George called. They were very eager to get on the pitch and whack Bludgers at Marcus Flint.  
  
"It's time," Oliver said, checking his watch. "Come on."  
  
Paris, Angelina, Alicia and Katie all exchanged pre-match hugs and kisses, as they always did.  
  
"Good luck, boys," Paris said to Fred and George before lining up at the painted wooden doors that led out onto the pitch. She felt Oliver come and stand beside her.  
  
"I want a win, Paris," Oliver told her without looking at her. His eyes were fixed on the door in front of him.  
  
"You've got one," Paris replied staring at the door too. Oliver glanced at her and smiled.  
  
The doors opened and the team was hit by cheers and the wind.  
  
"Lay low, wind's high. It'll blow you off, Pansy's heavy. Remember the Wronski Feint, she's not practiced, she'll follow you anywhere," Oliver was mumbling to Paris as they walked to the middle of the pitch were Madame Hooch and the Slytherin team were already assembled. The stands were full of students all cheering like maniacs. Quidditch wasn't a game, it was life.  
  
"Line up!" Madame Hooch said briskly. Both teams faced their opponents; Pansy was smirking nastily at Paris who just stared her out.  
  
"Captains! Shake!" Madame Hooch said and Oliver and Marcus stepped forward and gripped each others hand very tightly.  
  
"Players! Shake!" Madame Hooch said finally. Paris stepped forward and shook Pansy's hand, her nails dug into her palm but Paris kept quiet.  
  
"Ouch!" Katie yelled, wrenching her hand away from Montague who was smirking stupidly. She rubbed it vigorously, where he had tried to crush all the bones in her hand.  
  
"On my whistle, one, two, three!" Madame Hooch blew hard on her shrill whistle and the teams rose into the air. "Ready? GO!"  
  
She released the Quaffle and Angelina caught it straight away and sped toward the Slytherin goal posts.  
  
"Johnson there with the Quaffle! Angelina Johnson for Gryffindor!" Lee Jordan, the twins' friend was commentating the match from the teacher's box. "Nice Bludger there from Fred Weasley, too bad it missed. Angelina Johnson shoots and MISSES! Too bad Angelina! Flint in possession, Captain Marcus Flint is tearing down the pitch, dodges Bell, dodges Spinnet, and drops the Quaffle! He was hit by his own Beater! Er, nice one! Katie Bell in possession, passes to Spinnet, passes back to Bell, and she's away! Heading for Pucey and she shoots and SCORES! Ten nil to Gryffindor!" Lee screamed into his purple megaphone.  
  
The crowd began cheering wildly while the Slytherin booed and hissed. Paris high fived Katie before the game resumed. Paris quickly rose out of the way and glanced over at Oliver, who was hovering around his goalposts, his face rapt with attention on the game.  
  
"Flint in possession, he's keeping the Quaffle all to himself and heading straight to Keeper Wood, get ready Wood! Look at the determination on their faces! Flint hurls the Quaffle...and nice catch by Oliver Wood! Straight into the Captains arms! Too bad Flint!"  
  
Marcus Flint was practically spitting with rage at his failed attempt to score. He gave Oliver the filthiest look ever then sped away after Angelina.  
  
"Johnson in possession, reverse passes to Bell, Katie Bell for Gryffindor, she passes to Spinnet, Flint and co hot on their tail and OH! WHAT WAS THAT?" Lee Jordan screeched into his megaphone. "DELIBERATE ATTACK! ILLEGAL ASSULT ON A SEEKER!" Lee could barely get his words out he was so angry.  
  
Marcus, who had been chasing Alicia, noticed Paris hovering below them and decided to dive straight into her, sending her plummeting to the ground.  
  
"I thought she was the Quaffle!" Marcus howled to Madame Hooch, who didn't look convinced.  
  
Paris was sprawled on the grass thirty feet below them, the students all booing at Marcus except for the Slytherin's who found it all good fun.  
  
"Paris! Paris! Can you hear me?" Angelina screamed, as she was first to land.  
  
"Of course she can! That voice would wake the dead," Fred said, also joining Angelina on the ground. She was too concerned to elbow him.  
  
"Speak Paris, what's your name?" She cried.  
  
"You just bleeding told her!" George said, standing over Paris and casting a shadow over her face.  
  
"Ow," was the first thing Paris managed to say. Her shoulder was throbbing like crazy.  
  
"Is she hurt?" Oliver bellowed, staggering slightly as he had landed with more force than he meant to. "Is she unconscious?"  
  
"No, she's awake. Are you hurt, Paris?" Angelina asked, as Paris just laid there sprawled on her back.  
  
"No," She said but it was a lie. She gripped Angelina and pulled herself upright but everything started spinning.  
  
"How many fingers?" Oliver asked, holding up his hand.  
  
"Uh, three, no four," Paris said, squinting. Oliver and Angelina exchanged glances. Oliver was holding up two fingers. "NO! Two," Paris shouted before standing up shakily, much like a newborn giraffe.  
  
"Flint's been cautioned," Katie announced as she and Alicia dismounted close to them. "Is she alright?"  
  
"I'm fine," Paris said, taking her broom from Fred. "Come on, let's finish up this game."  
  
The team mounted their brooms and flew back into the sky. Madame Hooch awarded Gryffindor a penalty which Alicia took and she scored.  
  
Paris was holding on for dear life, her shoulder felt three times bigger than usual and see kept seeing two of everything.  
  
"Warrington in possession, passes to Montague, intercepted by Johnson, Angelina Johnson, passes to Bell who er, drops it, Flint with the Quaffle, Marcus Flint heading straight for Oliver Wood, can he score? YES! He has scored," Lee shouted sadly, the Slytherin's hooted and cheered. "So that's Gryffindor in the lead sixty points to twenty and no sign of the Snitch."  
  
Paris was desperately searching for the Snitch so she could go lay down but she couldn't see it anywhere. She followed Oliver's advice and feinted a few times, Pansy followed.  
  
Then it happened.  
  
Glistening near Fred's head was the Golden Snitch. Paris shot after it, Pansy hot in pursuit.  
  
"Get out off the way Fred!" Paris screamed but the Snitch was now zooming further down the field. She whizzed past Fred almost taking his head off. The Snitch seemed faster today and Paris inched closer and closer to it.  
  
Pansy smashed into Paris' side, her ample body almost throwing her off her broom.  
  
"It's mine Knightley!" Pansy screamed, reaching her chubby fingers out. Paris knew Pansy didn't stand a chance in hell.  
  
Willing her broom to go faster, Paris left Pansy squawking in fury behind her and was almost on top of the Snitch.  
  
"Come on, come to me," Paris whispered and she curled her fingers around the cold, metal Snitch. She heard Lee Jordan scream something into his megaphone and a mighty uproar from the crowd that filled her head.  
  
Paris flew to the ground and collapsed in the grass. It was the hardest Snitch she'd ever had to catch. Then she felt herself being dragged up by many hands, the team all shouting different things at once at her.  
  
"We won! We're two hundred points up!" Katie was shouting gleefully, wrapping her arms around Paris and jumping up and down.  
  
"Fifty house points for Gryffindor too!" Alicia cried, jumping up and down with Fred.  
  
"Where's my Seeker?" Oliver called. Katie and Angelina let Paris go and they looked up at Oliver.  
  
"There she is, well done," He said and to Angelina, Katie and Alicia's amazement but to Fred and George's disgust, swiftly kissed Paris on the lips.  
  
That was the final straw for Paris. Her mind racing and her shoulder throbbing, she slipped into unconsciousness and fell in a heap on the ground.  
  
When Paris awoke, she thought she was blind. Her eyes adjusted to the darkness and she realized she was in the hospital wing, somewhere she wasn't a stranger.  
  
She rubbed her eyes with her hand and remembered her shoulder still hurt.  
  
"You're still with us then?" a voice said and Paris jumped so badly she almost fell out of bed.  
  
"Ol-Oliver?" Paris said uncertainly, pushing herself up on her elbows and squinting into the darkness.  
  
"Lumos," Oliver said and a golden glow lit up his face. He smiled at Paris wearily.  
  
"What time is it?" Paris asked, sitting up so her back rested against the head board.  
  
"About half nine," Oliver replied, sitting back in his chair.  
  
"Oh," Paris said. "How long you been here?"  
  
"All evening," Oliver replied, smiling sheepishly. He looked tired and Paris could see he had been worrying the life out his hair as it was sticking up in every direction. "How're you feeling?" He asked.  
  
"Not too bad, my shoulder hurts a bit," Paris said, massaging it with her hand. It felt stiff but sore at the same time.  
  
"You've got a black eye too," Oliver said with another smile.  
  
"I have?" Paris said, her hand instantly shot up to her face.  
  
"Yeah, it makes you look quite tough," Oliver replied, shifting in his chair. Paris slowly touched all around her eye socket, feeling her bruised skin.  
  
"I'm glad you're alright. You really scared us all when you passed out," Oliver said, breaking the eerie silence.  
  
"I'm sorry, I don't know what happened," Paris said, shaking her head.  
  
"It made me think you know, seeing you unconscious made me realize a few things," Oliver said awkwardly. Paris kept her gaze on him as he looked at his feet.  
  
"Like what?" She asked softly.  
  
"Like how much I care about you," Oliver said quietly after a few moments.  
  
"I care about you too," Paris replied, not really knowing what else to say.  
  
"I've been thinking about you non-stop since that Care of Magical Creatures lesson," Oliver admitted. Paris blushed at the memory and at the fact all she had been thinking about was Oliver too.  
  
"I don't know what happened, I just wanted to feel better," Paris said, picking at her white cotton bed sheets nervously.  
  
"It made me feel better too," Oliver said, fiddling with his sleeve.  
  
"So, where do we go from here?" Paris asked boldly.  
  
"Well, I'd like to ask you out but I think it'll be too complicated," Oliver sighed. Paris looked up at him, their eyes met briefly before Oliver looked away nervously.  
  
"If you ask me, I'll say yes. There's nothing complicated about that," Paris said slowly. "It may be my concussion talking but I really like you Oliver." Oliver laughed through his nose and took Paris' hand in his affectionately.  
  
"You're crazy," he said with a smile.  
  
"That's what fifteen years with the twins do to you," Paris shrugged and Oliver laughed again. He leaned right over and kissed Paris and felt happy. Happy to know he was finally going out with Paris Knightley.  
  



	4. Echoes of Thunder

"Sir, is the answer the Wonga Wonga Werewolf?" Marino said sweetly, her hand raised high in the air.  
  
"Yes, very good Marino!" Professor Lupin replied. Marino looked extremely pleased with herself.  
  
Advanced Defense Against the Dark Arts was the only lesson Marino really paid attention in, mainly because she fancied Professor Lupin rotten.  
  
"Paris, can you give me the date of when werewolves were classed as dangerous half-breeds?" Professor Lupin asked mildly.  
  
"Pardon?" Paris said suddenly, snapping out of her gaze on the back of Oliver's head.  
  
"1542," Marino said promptly before Lupin even had a chance to repeat the question.  
  
"Thank you Marino," Lupin said, smiling knowingly at Paris before turning to the blackboard to write some more facts down. Marino adopted her snobbish smile once again that reminded Paris strongly of Percy.  
  
Over the past few weeks, Paris and Oliver had slipped into a comfortable relationship and become incredible friends. Paris never realized just how funny and likeable Oliver was, when he wasn't shouting and ranting about Quidditch.  
  
School was getting tougher, increased work loads added to Head Girl duties and Quidditch were taking its toll on Paris but somehow she managed to stay on top of things and find time to swim in lake with the twins or teach Oliver football.  
  
"Kick it Oliver, with your foot!" Paris shouted to Oliver who looked extremely apprehensive. It was Thursday evening and the pair had wandered out after dinner.  
  
He kicked the Quaffle that was acting as the football and rolled lazily to where Paris stood between the Quidditch goal posts.  
  
"Was that it?" Oliver yelled.  
  
"Kind of but you have to kick it harder and try and score past me. Try again," Paris replied and booted the Quaffle back to Oliver. He kicked it back more forcefully and Paris had to dive to stop it going past the posts.  
  
"Muggles really play this?" Oliver asked, walking over to Paris.  
  
"Uh huh, it's just as big as Quidditch, maybe bigger," Paris said. Oliver didn't look at all convinced. "Then there's cricket, basketball, tennis, baseball, squash, rugby...loads of sports," Paris continued, checking off her fingers as she said the names.  
  
"Are you going to teach me all of them?" Oliver asked, picking up the Quaffle and flicking his hair from his eyes.  
  
"One day. And I'll teach you about the Olympics where they play shot put and javelin and all that," Paris said but Oliver wasn't really listening, he was busy watching her speak with such enthusiasm about weird Muggle sports he had no clue about.  
  
"What?" Paris said when she realized Oliver was watching her. "Have I got something on my face? Fred and George were trying to get me to look through something earlier..."  
  
"I'm just looking at you," Oliver said. Paris smiled bashfully and self consciously tucked her hair behind her ear. Oliver stepped slightly closer to Paris and threw the Quaffle on the floor.  
  
"Oh and there's running at the Olympics," Paris murmured, watching Oliver reach up and stroke her face gently.  
  
"Running isn't a sport," Oliver said, looking at the red highlights shimmering in Paris' hair.  
  
"It is," Paris replied quietly, wrapping her arms around Oliver's waist and looking up at him.  
  
"Well I can do that then," Oliver said also wrapping his arms around Paris and pulling her close.  
  
"You run like a chicken," Paris said into his neck and Oliver laughed.  
  
"Smile," Oliver said, tilting Paris' chin up so he could look at her. Paris smiled at the absurdity of the question more than anything else. Oliver smiled back and kissed her softly, softly.  
  
Paris was almost there when a voice cut through her like a knife.  
  
"Get a room," Marcus sneered after making a disgusted noise. Paris and Oliver both turned to see who it was. Marcus had his Quidditch team behind him, all of them in their ugly green and black uniforms. Paris gave Marcus a scathing look and stepped back from Oliver but clamped her hand firmly around his.  
  
"You should be ashamed of yourself, kissing Mudbloods. Who knows what you might catch," Marcus said and his team laughed nastily.  
  
"Don't!" Paris hissed to Oliver, yanking him back as he started toward Marcus.  
  
"Come on Wood, show us what you've got," Marcus taunted. Pansy's shriek was louder than anyone else's.  
  
"I'm warning you Marcus, I will put you in detention," Paris said through gritted teeth. Marcus didn't care about detention and it was a feeble threat.  
  
"Come on then, try it," Marcus replied, folding his arms.  
  
"Right, ten points from Slytherin!" Paris said loudly. "Care to carry on? Because I can take points away all evening. It won't take me long anyway, Slytherin only have about twenty points!"  
  
"Go on then, I'll just go to Snape," Marcus said obnoxiously.  
  
"Twenty more points then from Slytherin!" Paris barked. Marcus' smirk faltered.  
  
"We want to practice, get going," He said simply, every member of the team glaring horribly at Paris.  
  
Paris and Oliver began to walk past the team but Marcus grabbed Oliver's arm tightly and hissed "I'd make sure she's in your sight at all times. Who knows when she'll have a little accident?"  
  
With that, Oliver turned around and knocked Marcus clean off his feet with one punch.  
  
"Absolutely unacceptable behavior! You are a seventh year and have responsibilities! I have a right mind to suspend you from Quidditch!"  
  
Oliver was sat in Professor McGonagall's office looking incredibly angry and irritable.  
  
"NO!" Oliver said suddenly, jerking his head up. His scowl turned into fear but Professor McGonagall folded her arms and pursed her lips.  
  
"I don't want to suspend you, Wood but your behavior is unacceptable. Professor Snape has already read me the riot act, something I did not need to hear, especially from him," Professor McGonagall sighed.  
  
Oliver hung his head and concentrated on what he'd like to do Marcus for getting him in so much trouble.  
  
"All this over Miss Knightley, I see. You three seem to have a track record of getting each other into trouble," McGonagall sighed again, picking up a piece of parchment with very small, spidery hand writing on it.  
  
"He keeps calling Paris a Mudblood," Oliver said reluctantly. Professor McGonagall looked up sharply; her hands creased the parchment where her grip tightened.  
  
"Then I suggest Miss Knightley comes to me about it. That is a serious accusation," Professor McGonagall said as lightly as possible.  
  
"It's not an accusation; she is a Muggle-born. I didn't even know till Marcus called her it on our first day back," Oliver replied, unsure whether McGonagall knew or whether Paris would mind him telling her.  
  
"I am fully aware of Paris' background and also fully aware of her decision of keeping it to herself so do not feel put out that she didn't divulge her personal life to you," Professor McGonagall said impatiently. "I can assure she had her reasons."  
  
"But it's no big deal," Oliver argued. He still didn't understand why everyone wanted to be so secretive about Paris all the time.  
  
"You are a male pure-blood wizard; they don't come much more oblivious than you Oliver. You don't have a clue what Paris has been through or what it's like to be the only magical person in your family. Her family disowned her because of who she is," Professor McGonagall said quietly but seriously.  
  
Oliver gaped at his teacher unbelievingly.  
  
"Paris stays with the Weasley family during holiday's I believe, they offered her a home when her parents moved away shortly after Paris began Hogwarts. They refused to have anything to do with their daughter when they found out who she really was.  
  
How do think Paris took that? Eleven and disowned," Professor McGonagall said grimly.  
  
Oliver felt a mixture of emotions. He felt an intense urge to find Paris and take away her pain. He felt anger towards her family for what they did and jealously that Paris hadn't told him but Fred and George and Percy were in on it.  
  
"I have told you this incredibly personal information in an attempt that you may understand Paris a bit better. She needs someone she can trust in her life, a male figure that isn't a Weasley. She needs someone to love and someone to love her in return Oliver. Do you understand?"  
  
Oliver nodded his head vigorously, feeling uncomfortable that he was having this conversation with Professor McGonagall.  
  
"I don't want you to tell anyone what I have just said. Paris will tell you in her own time, when she is ready. Don't pity her because that's why she kept it to herself, she doesn't want pity or sympathy. But be more understanding and tolerant, be the person she knows and cares for," Professor McGonagall said finally. Oliver was absolutely speechless.  
  
He sat forward in his chair and held onto the back of neck as he stared at the floor. He wanted to be sick, to cry, and to shout. But he didn't.  
  
Oliver took a deep breath through his nose and looked up at Professor McGonagall, his chin barely higher than her desk.  
  
"Thank you," is all he managed to say as he didn't know what else would be suitable.  
  
"You may go Oliver," Professor McGonagall said giving him a short smile. Oliver got up numbly and left her office.  
  
"Oliver! What happened? You're not in trouble, are you?" Paris said, jumping up from where she sat on the floor facing the door to Professor McGonagall's office.  
  
"No, I got a warning," Oliver replied.  
  
"That's ok then! Ha, at least Slytherin are now thirty points down, Snape'll probably replace them though," Paris said cheerfully, tucking her hand into Oliver's and attempting to walk down the corridor but Oliver didn't budge.  
  
"Come here," Oliver said quietly and pulled Paris toward his chest, where he held her there. He screwed his eyes up tight as Paris coiled her arms around his waist. Oliver kissed the top of her head and smelt her hair which smelt of outdoors.  
  
Reluctantly, Oliver let Paris go but held her hand firmly as they went down the corridor toward their common room, where everyone was unaware of what he now knew.  
  
Oliver watched Paris thrash various contenders at Wizard Chess before being beaten spectacularly by Fred Weasley. He didn't laugh when Fred shimmied around the common room, in some kind of victory tribal dance.  
  
Oliver knew Paris probably belonged in Gryffindor more than anyone as Fred and George dragged her up and danced about the common room with her, laughing and genuinely having fun.  
  
Oliver realized he respected Fred, George and Percy far, far more now.   
  



	5. Promises

Paris and Oliver were wasting the remainder of Thursday evening under a large tree near the lake. The day had been unusually warm for October and the last of the sun was struggling through the trees, barely managing to warm their cheeks.  
  
"Do you have dreams, Oliver?" Paris asked who was laying on her back, pulling petals off a daisy and letting them flutter everywhere.  
  
"Well yeah. Mostly about Quidditch, some about you, well alot about you, oh and I had this dream once that I was being chased by a giant slug called Cyril - ," Oliver began but Paris cut him off before he could launch into describing his slug nightmare.  
  
"No, I mean aspirations. What do you want to do with your life?" Paris clarified, looking at Oliver who was laying on his stomach with his hands propping up his chin.  
  
"I don't know. Play professional Quidditch, I suppose," Oliver replied honestly. Paris rolled her eyes.  
  
"What about you then?" Oliver asked.  
  
"If there's one thing I have to do before I die, it'll be seeing the Mona Lisa," Paris said wistfully.  
  
"The moaning what?" Oliver said, horribly confused.  
  
"The Mona Lisa. It's a painting in the Louvre Grand Gallery in Paris, which is in France," Paris added.  
  
"I know where Paris is, Paris," Oliver said but Paris was now rifling in the pocket of her jeans.  
  
"Look, here she is," Paris announced, unfolding a very old piece of paper. It had been pulled out from a magazine by the looks of it.  
  
"Christ, she's ugly!" Oliver cried, looking at the picture of a smug looking woman.  
  
"She isn't ugly! She's beautiful and one of the most famous ladies in history!" Paris snapped, snatching the paper back self-consciously. She tucked it safely back in her pocket.  
  
"The picture is in Paris eh? Is that what you were named after?" Oliver said, now wishing he hadn't brought it up.  
  
"No, thankfully I wasn't named after where I was conceived. I'm named after Paris, Prince of Troy. He was a mythical Greek man who couldn't keep his hands off other men's wives. Nice chap," Paris said, with a smile.  
  
"You're named after a man?" Oliver blurted out and regretting it even more.  
  
"I suppose I parents wanted a boy. Guess I managed to disappoint them even before I was born," Paris shrugged, smiling sadly.  
  
Oliver didn't really know what to say to that.  
  
"It's ok Oliver. I know Professor McGonagall told you, I would've done myself but she beat me to it," Paris said, sitting up. Oliver did the same, feeling incredibly sheepish.  
  
"I'm sorry about your parents," Oliver mumbled.  
  
"Oh don't Oliver. Don't start the sympathy parade on me, I don't need it. I'm fine without them and have been for the past seven years," Paris said seriously. She had obviously dealt with it better than Oliver imagined.  
  
"I don't see why they did it, though," Oliver said, looking at the grass.  
  
"They did it because they didn't know any better. I always knew who I was and I accepted it. It was finally their excuse to dump me and move on. They didn't like who I was and that's fine," Paris explained softly, like it was Oliver her parents had left.  
  
"So that's why you can't produce a Patronus!" Oliver said happily. Clearly the thought had been bugging him for some while.  
  
"Yeah, it's kinda hard to ask your father for protection when he doesn't even love you," Paris said. "I can produce a shield, which is like a Patronus but it's based on my own strength rather than my fathers love. It's hard but it does the trick."  
  
Oliver was quiet for a little while, thinking.  
  
"So, who's the Mona Lisa painted by?" Oliver asked, changing the subject but not really interested in a Muggle who painted pictures of weird women.  
  
"Da Vinci," Paris replied, laying back down.  
  
"Leonardo Da Vinci?" Oliver said, almost choking on his own spit.  
  
"The very man. You know of him?" Paris asked, closing her eyes.  
  
"He's not a painter! He was a wizard!" Oliver exclaimed.  
  
Paris sat up, with an expression that did not believe Oliver one little bit.  
  
"He isn't! He was an artist and an inventor. And a Muggle!" Paris argued.  
  
"He was a wizard, known for playing tricks on Muggles. It's why the Mona Lisa is so famous! She's so ugly but Muggles love her! Da Vinci put a spell on his paintings so they'd sell!" Oliver cried, laughing at the fact Paris loved a prankster's art.  
  
"I don't believe you," Paris said stubbornly.  
  
"I'll get you a book on him the next time I'm in Hogsmeade then and you'll see!" Oliver said seriously. Paris knew Oliver was right, he was a pure blood, of course he'd know wizard history.  
  
"I still like Mona Lisa though," Paris decided out loud.  
  
"If she means that much, I'll take you to see her one day," Oliver offered.  
  
"Really? You promise?" Paris said, happy Oliver could see a future for them both.  
  
"Promise," Oliver said with a smile.  
  



	6. Hallowed Halloween

Halloween was fast approaching before anyone really knew it.  
  
Marino however had been dieting for the past three weeks in an attempt to hook the resident Hogwarts heart-throb Cedric Diggory as her date to the Halloween Ball. Sharing her time between eating nothing but oranges and stalking Cedric had all been in vain as Cedric whispered to Paris one afternoon in Herbology that he had received thirty seven invites, six of which were from boys.  
  
Marino took it all in her stride and practically ordered Percy to accompany her to the Ball. After a mere two days, Marino had Percy tripping over himself to cater to her every want and need. Paris could only look on in awe.  
  
Everything had been going smoothly for Paris. Marcus hadn't shown his rat like face for a long while and practically bearable in Potions, sitting quietly and getting on with his work. Paris decided that perhaps he had accidentally put a spell on himself or something that made him, dare she say it, nice.  
  
"Marino! For the love of Merlin, it's enough lipstick!" Paris cried at her friend. The Saturday Halloween had fallen on had been seriously stressful for Paris, she had to help decorate the Hall, keep an eye on the first years, have a Quidditch practice, restrain herself from stabbing Fred or George with a fork, put up with Marino AND be polite to everyone as it was her birthday.  
  
"A lady can never apply too much lipstick," Marino said sagely, gazing at her reflection in the mirror she had been perched in front of since four o'clock that afternoon.  
  
"It's twenty past seven, Marino! We were supposed to meet them downstairs at seven!" Paris cried, feeling a nervous breakdown on the way.  
  
"Relax, I'm ready," Marino said, getting up. "Well?" She said, motioning to her dress.  
  
"You look lovely," Paris said with a small smile. Marino did look lovely, she was in a pale lavender dress with her blonde curls now sleek and straight.  
  
"So do you," Marino said with a nod. Paris wanted to scoff. She had gotten ready in less than half an hour, shoving her dusky pink dress on and applying a slick of lipstick. She would've been ready in five minutes if Marino hadn't insisted on making her long brown hair turn into soft bouncy curls.  
  
"Come on, let's go," Paris said, holding out her hand for Marino.  
  
When the girls got down the stairs, Paris didn't know who to look at first. There was Angelina, Alicia and Katie all looking stunning, and Katie actually looking like a girl for a change. Fred, George and Lee Jordan all looking horribly uncomfortable in shirts and ties, Percy looking like, well Percy and Oliver, looking unbelievable.  
  
"Hallo," Oliver said nervously when Paris approached him. "You look, er nice." It felt like they didn't even know each other.  
  
"So do you," Paris said, barely concealing her amazement. Oliver was dressed in a black suit with a black shirt but no tie.  
  
Fred cleared his throat. "Come on, shall we go or just stand here all night?"  
  
Paris tucked her hand in Oliver's and had a feeling this was going to be a brilliant night.  
  
When the large group of Gryffindor's finally got out of their common room everyone's moods seemed to change.  
  
Marino, who had been bickering with Fred had now stopped and was actually giggling at something Percy was saying. Lee Jordan keep staring at Katie, not believing his luck.  
  
Instead of Katie's usual plait and t-shirt combo, she was in a very lovely sky blue dress with her blonde hair piled on top of her head.  
  
The group of friends neared the Great Hall, which Paris decided she had seen enough of for one day.  
  
"Nice job, Paris!" Alicia said over her shoulder when they entered the Hall. It was decorated as usual, with pumpkins and bats.  
  
"Thank you," Paris called as Alicia was dragged off to dance by George.  
  
Marino, Percy, Paris and Oliver all sat down at a small, lantern lit table at the edge of the Hall and watched everyone dance and have fun.  
  
The night went by quickly.  
  
The twins spent most of their time at the food table, stuffing as much food as humanly possible. The ladies of the group had a nice time dancing and making fools of themselves and Oliver spent most of the night being hounded by four various housed first year girls all claiming to be madly in love with him.  
  
"Aw, who were those little girls?" Paris said, looking at the gaggle of girls who had just been at their table.  
  
"His Fan Club ," Fred said, an evil grin stretched wide across his face.  
  
"They were not!" Oliver argued.  
  
"They were," George offered. "And they even have a theme song, ahem 'Oh we love Oliver Wo' - ," George began in his best voice but Oliver cut him off.  
  
"Sing another word and I swear you'll regret it," Oliver warned. Paris couldn't help but smirking, and made a note to learn the song from George another day.  
  
"Whatever you do will all be worth it," George said airily and cleared his throat once more but Oliver shot up and dragged him and Fred over to the other side of the Hall.  
  
Whatever Oliver had said to the twins had certainly shut them up because when they came back over, they were very quiet but very rueful looking.  
  
"Come on, do you want to go outside for a bit?" Oliver asked Paris, shooting the twins warning looks. Paris accepted and they left the Great Hall and headed outside.  
  
It was pitch black outside but there were small torches lighting a path around the castle. The Quidditch pitch was an eerie white colour from the glow of the moon.  
  
"Today has been fun," Paris said after about five minutes of silence.  
  
"Yeah," Oliver said, slightly uninterested. Paris decided to let it go, Oliver was probably in a mood because of Fred and George.  
  
They walked a little further, now approaching the Herbology greenhouses still not speaking. Oliver looked like he was thinking hard about something. Paris decided to look at the sky, the night was so black, the stars could barely shine through. Here and there was a streak of purple, so dark it too, looked black.  
  
Oliver stopped abruptly but Paris carried on walking a little way before she realized.  
  
"Oliver?" Paris said, turning and walking back to him. "What's the matter with you suddenly?"  
  
"I need to tell you something, Paris," Oliver said quietly. It sounded like he was about to tell her she only had an hour to live or something.  
  
"Go on," Paris pressed, worried what it might be.  
  
"I, it's not easy and I've been practicing it in my head and it sounds really stupid, I want it to be right though and I, well maybe I could..." Oliver began babbling rubbish.  
  
"Just tell me, whatever it is," Paris said, now very curious. Oliver took a deep breath and looked at Paris. He looked rather ill.  
  
"I love you," Oliver said clearly. Paris froze on the spot. She'd heard the words but they hadn't quite registered.  
  
"You, what?" Was the only thing Paris managed to say. Oliver now looked insanely embarrassed.  
  
"I'm sorry, it wasn't right," Oliver began, wishing a hole would open up and swallow him. If he had his wand, he could probably make one.  
  
"I love you too!" Paris said, with a laugh. Oliver surveyed her then broke into a very relived smile. Paris stepped toward him and gave him a hug.  
  
"I'm bloody freezing. Let's go back to the Tower," Paris said quietly. Oliver nodded and they walked the short distance back to the castle.  
  
"Mooncalf," Paris said to the Fat Lady and the portrait hole swing open when the pair had reached Gryffindor Tower. They stepped inside and were instantly warmed by the dwindling but nice fire.  
  
"Do you want to go up?" Oliver asked, motioning to the boys stairs. Paris nodded and they set off up the stone steps that led to the dorms.  
  
Paris had never been up the boy's stairs before but they were much like the girls ones, only the opposite way round.  
  
When they reached the top, Oliver opened the door and went inside. Paris was not surprised, it looked just like five seventeen year old boys lived here. There were posters and clothes everywhere. Paris knew immediately which bed was Percy's because it was the neatest.  
  
"Lovely," Paris said, raising her eyebrows.  
  
"I did kinda tidy up earlier," Oliver said in his defense although you wouldn't know it.  
  
Paris sat down on Oliver's bed, which was easily identified as it was surrounded by Quidditch posters. On his bedside table, there was a Gryffindor team photo that Paris remembered posing for in her sixth year. She looked at her slightly younger self, waving at the camera then trying to escape from George by hiding behind Angelina.  
  
"We need a new photo," Paris said, smiling. Oliver looked a little embarrassed and sat down beside Paris on his bed.  
  
"We don't have to if you don't want to," Oliver said softly. For a minute Paris thought he meant have a new photo. Her heart began to beat a little faster and she got that nervous feeling she always got just before a Quidditch game.  
  
"I do want to," Paris whispered and kissed Oliver.  
  



	7. Day After the Night Before

When Oliver woke up on Sunday morning, it took him a few moments to realize who was sleeping in his bed with him.  
  
He shifted so he could see Paris, who was curled up on her side and sucking her thumb. Oliver smiled.  
  
He lay there a little while, gathering his thoughts and staring at the ceiling not really believing what had happened last night. He had imagined it so many times but never really thought it would come true.  
  
"Oliver?" Paris said sleepily, rubbing her eyes.  
  
"Good morning," Oliver said softly. Paris grinned but it turned into a huge yawn.  
  
Oliver sat up against his headboard and Paris laughed at his bed hair.  
  
"Yours isn't much better!" Oliver said, ruffling Paris' hair and making it worse than it already was.  
  
"Oliver? Are you awake? You know the match is in - OHMYGOD!" Percy cried as he drew back Oliver's bed hangings. He spun around quickly, avoiding all eye contact.  
  
"Morning Perce," Paris said, not bothering to hide her amusement.  
  
"What are you doing? Have you been here all night?" Percy demanded over his shoulder.  
  
"What if I have?" Paris said playfully. She could see the back of Percy's neck go very red.  
  
"It's against the rules!" He hissed. "You're not setting a very good example!"  
  
"Who for? No-one saw me," Paris said, sitting up next to Oliver.  
  
"It's not the point! You better go!" Percy flustered, still facing the other way. Paris rolled her eyes at Oliver and got out of bed and slipped one of Oliver's t-shirts over her head before gathering up her things.  
  
"I'll meet you downstairs," Oliver said and Paris nodded and left, giving Percy a significant smirk.  
  
Paris, Oliver and Percy made their way toward the Quidditch pitch in practical silence. Percy kept shaking his head, as if to get rid of a mental image. Paris kept smirking at him, making him return with patronizing looks.  
  
Oliver was too excited over Quidditch to notice.  
  
"Where did you get to last night?" Was the first thing Fred said when Paris, Oliver and Percy emerged from the steps onto the Gryffindor stadium.  
  
"Good morning to you too," Paris said, stepping past him and joining Marino who instantly began whispering furiously in Paris' ear.  
  
"So?" Fred demanded to Oliver.  
  
"We went for a walk. Personal stuff, alright?" Oliver replied then launched into a conversation with fellow Gryffindor seventh year Tristan Matthews.  
  
"You never!" Marino shrieked suddenly, making everyone around her turn and look. Marino didn't notice, she was busy gazing open mouthed at her best friend.  
  
"What?" Fred asked, itching to know what was going on.  
  
"None of your business," Marino said loftily and pulled Paris away to whisper more in private. Fred rolled his eyes as Angelina, Alicia and Katie joined Marino and Paris in their furious whispering.  
  
"Hello and welcome, I'm your gracious host Lee Jordan and today Ravenclaw are playing Hufflepuff!" Lee announced into his megaphone, his voice echoing all around the stadium. Everyone cheered when Ravenclaw were led out by seventh year Roger Davies and Hufflepuff were led out by Cedric.  
  
"Duffer," Fred said to George a little too loudly which resulted in him getting a lecture from Marino about what a wonderful sportsman Cedric is etc etc. Percy didn't look at all impressed and neither did Oliver when Marino casually suggested that she would go to Madam Hooch and request to start a cheerleading team for the Quidditch teams.  
  
The game began but Oliver and Marino were still bickering about cheerleaders being a distraction. Paris was surprised at how knowledgeable Marino was about Quidditch, she kept giving examples of American teams having mascots and cheerleaders at their matches.  
  
"Go on Celeste! Catch it!" Paris shouted to the Hufflepuff Keeper and Cedric's new girlfriend. She was very pretty but hopeless at Quidditch. Paris sighed as a Ravenclaw Chaser scored again.  
  
"Hufflepuff won't exactly be a problem again this year," George said to Oliver, who nodded. Paris rolled her eyes this time, Hufflepuff had a strong team it was just Cedric was too soft on them all. Oliver would've chucked Celeste off months ago for keep missing the Quaffle but not Cedric.  
  
The game ended after about fifteen minutes, even though Cedric caught the Snitch as Cho Chang the Ravenclaw Seeker was busy making eyes at him and not concentrating on the Snitch, Ravenclaw still won two hundred and seventy points to one hundred and seventy.  
  
"We've got Ravenclaw next then," Paris said to Oliver as they began making their way down the steps and back to the castle.  
  
"Yeah, looks like serious competition as well. Everyone wants the Cup this year," Oliver said rather dramatically. Paris had to laugh.  
  
That afternoon, Paris and Oliver decided to go to the library to work. Oliver was scrawling away at a new Quidditch practice time-table whilst Paris read her Da Vinci book Oliver had given her for her birthday yesterday.  
  
Every so often, Oliver would make an angry noise and scribble out something with his quill or Paris would make an puzzled noise at something she had read.  
  
Madam Pince kept creeping up behind them and demanding to see what they were doing, incase they were wrecking one of her precious books. She had now tried to take Paris' book three times, screeching it was one of hers and Paris had stolen it and was defacing it secretly.  
  
"Oh hello Professor McGonagall," Paris said as a shadow loomed over their table. Oliver stopped and looked up at his Head of House too.  
  
"Good afternoon. Professor Dumbledore wishes to see you both in his office," Professor McGonagall said gravely.  
  
"What for?" Oliver asked, leaning back in his chair to stretch his aching back.  
  
"That is between you and Dumbledore, come on, move!" Professor McGonagall said impatiently. They waited while Oliver cleared up his stuff and binned numerous broken quills and screwed up parchment.  
  
Paris smiled nervously at Oliver as they walked behind Professor McGonagall toward Dumbledore's office. Oliver held onto Paris' hand tight, wondering what they had done.  
  
"Canary Creams," Professor McGonagall said loudly and clearly to a stone gargoyle. "Go on, up you go," She said, ushering the pair onto the winding stone steps which had sprung into motion. They stepped on and were soon rising upwards toward Dumbledore's office.  
  
When the stair case stopped moving, Paris and Oliver stepped off it and through the open door to Dumbledore's office. Paris had only been here a few times during her school life and every time it looked different to her.  
  
"Master Wood, Miss Knightley! Come and sit down," Dumbledore said from across the room. He was sitting at his huge oak desk. Paris and Oliver obeyed and sat on the chairs in front of his desk.  
  
Their Headmaster was a very different man.  
  
"I suppose you're wondering why you're here?" Dumbledore asked, smiling warmly at them both as they nodded.  
  
"Well I have some interesting news to say the least but where to begin? This isn't the easiest thing to explain or accept I should imagine."  
  
With every word, Paris started to become more and more nervous at what the old man had to say.  
  
Dumbledore picked up a small, grey stone tablet Paris hadn't noticed when she sat down.  
  
"This is a very old prophecy. So old, it has been craved in stone rather than sealed in a glass sphere. Here," Dumbledore said, passing the stone to Oliver. On it were engravings that were hard to identify.  
  
From what Paris could make out, it said:  
  
O.J.W. (P) 31.10.03 P.T.K. (M)  
  
A.J.W - 12.06.04 - M.R.F. - 15.06.04-23.23  
  
Thyne chosen Gemini.  
  
Paris and Oliver both looked up at Dumbledore expectantly, not understanding what the engravings meant.  
  
"This tablet was engraved centuries ago and has been in my possession for a very long time. It's about you two," Dumbledore explained. Paris and Oliver's mouths dropped open.  
  
"The initials are yours, Oliver James Wood and Paris Trojan Knightley. That date in the middle is your birthday I believe Paris, it is also the date your child is to be conceived on," Dumbledore paused. Paris' cheeks were a fresh scarlet as she had already blushed at her absurd middle name.  
  
"C-child?" Oliver repeated, looking considerably sick.  
  
"Yes, this is a delicate matter but I need to ask. Is there any chance this prophecy is true?" Dumbledore asked softly. Paris could feel her cheeks burning with embarrassment.  
  
"A very good chance," Paris whispered, thinking back to last night. It only just occurred to her what they had forgotten.  
  
"It wasn't a mistake, my dear so don't blame yourself. It was meant to happen," Dumbledore explained lightly. "You two are known as The Gemini, who produce the Gemini baby. A very special child no doubt who has been speculated about for a long time. The parents each hold various things this child will need in order to rise. What for, we do not know."  
  
Paris felt dizzy, it was all going to fast for her. This had to be a joke or something. Or Dumbledore had the wrong person. It couldn't be Paris, she wasn't special at all, she was just herself.  
  
"Maybe I should explain more. That might help you understand better. Paris, you are very special even if you don't believe it. You're kind and giving, patient and clever which are all important traits which unfortunately not many people hold anymore. Oliver here, has sharp reflexes, a calculating mind and he strives to give the people who are close to him the best, hence his passion for the Quidditch Cup." Paris smiled at Oliver, who smiled back even though he still looked sick.  
  
"Now, your child will inherit those traits and be everything and more what you two are. That's what will make him the Gemini baby," Dumbledore said.  
  
Something clicked in Paris' head.  
  
"Him?" She said without really thinking.  
  
"Yes, your son," Dumbledore said, smiling again.  
  



	8. More Promises

Paris and Oliver left Dumbledore's office in silence. They had exhausted all conversation but Paris still had so many questions, questions Dumbledore didn't know the answers to or wasn't willing to tell.  
  
They had been in the office for a long time as outside was turning dark and the corridors become chilly. Paris held the stone tablet in her hand as Dumbledore had let her have it. She knew it'd drive her crazy trying to figure it out.  
  
"I want you to go to Gryffindor Tower and stay there where you'll be safe," Oliver said suddenly as Paris went to walk up the steps leading to the Tower.  
  
"Where are you going?" Paris asked.  
  
"I need to think. Stay in Gryffindor Tower, I'll see you tomorrow," Oliver said vaguely and turned to go out the main entrance doors without so much a backward glance at Paris.  
  
Fighting the tears, Paris ran up the stone steps and burst into her common room. She had missed dinner but didn't care, she bolted up to her dormitory and locked the door.  
  
Paris sat on the edge of her bed and held her head in her hands. Her mind was swarming with thoughts, all jumbled up with each other. She was pregnant, Oliver didn't want to know her anymore, she was alone, she'd be expelled from school, Mrs. Weasley would be so ashamed...the thoughts kept on coming.  
  
Paris took the prophecy from her pocket and looked at it. At her initials and Oliver's. At the dates and initials she didn't understand. What did they mean? She had never even heard of the Gemini and now she was one half of it. How dare this happen to her, what had she done to deserve this?  
  
Paris couldn't hold it any longer, she but her hands over her eyes and sobbed and sobbed.  
  
Oliver ran down the stone steps to the only place he felt safe, the Quidditch pitch. His heart was hammering against his ribcage but he kept running until he felt the familiar grass beneath his feet.  
  
He unlocked the changing rooms and reached for his broom then went back on the pitch.  
  
He didn't quite know what to do with himself, the Quidditch pitch hadn't made him feel any better at all. He felt sick. He felt such an idiot. Most of all he felt angry. He had understood who's initials they were under Paris' and he did not like it.  
  
"WHY ME?" He shouted up to sky, which was a horrible grey colour, all streaked with black. The shouting stung his throat but he didn't care. Why him? Why couldn't he just have a nice girlfriend who he could kiss once in a while and only have to worry about the twins knocking themselves out with their Beaters bats?  
  
Why did it have to be him? He didn't want to be a father, he was only seventeen!  
  
He couldn't support it, he had no idea how to look after one, he hadn't even held a baby before!  
  
Oliver swung his broom and whacked the grass with it. It made him feel slightly better. He did it again and again until the air around him was filled with small twigs from the tail of his beloved broom.  
  
Paris heard someone shout. She got up and looked out her window, she could see Oliver on the Quidditch pitch.  
  
It made her angry, he didn't want to be with her so he could go play Quidditch? Men!  
  
Without wiping her eyes, Paris bolted back out of her dormitory and marched straight out of Gryffindor Tower leaving the shouts of 'Are you ok?' behind her.  
  
She ran down the steps, passing a few younger students who gave her funny looks. Paris realized she must look a complete state but she didn't really care. She just wanted to get to Oliver and give him a good kicking for being so stupid. It was his fault she was in this mess.  
  
She could now hear him thrashing the life out of his broom for some reason.  
  
"Oliver?" She said and he stopped and turned around. His cheeks had gone red, the way they did when he was worked up or tired from playing Quidditch. Paris had always thought that cute.  
  
"I told you stay in Gryffindor Tower," He said, panting. He threw his broom down and collapsed on the grass.  
  
"I didn't want to," Paris said, sounding like a spoilt brat. Oliver had no right to tell her what to do anyway. She sat down next to Oliver on the grass, which was slightly damp.  
  
"What are we going to do?" She sighed, feeling herself about to cry again. She wasn't mad at Oliver, he was just as worried as she was.  
  
"I don't know," Oliver admitted, picking some grass.  
  
Paris sighed but it turned into a sob and before she knew it, she was crying again. Oliver put his arm around her shoulders and pulled her to him so her head could rest on his shoulder.  
  
"Why is it always me? I have enough to cope with!" Paris wailed. "I'm Head Girl, I'm Seeker, I have to look after the twins, I have to listen to Marino, I help Cedric in class, I have to be nice to everyone, I have to put up with Marcus! Everyone's so dependant on me but who have I got to depend on?"  
  
"Well you've got me," Oliver said.  
  
"True. But you don't understand what it's like. I have to be brave for everyone and pretend I don't have problems. No-one asked me how I felt when my parents left me, no-one! Everyone was like, oh there there. Never mind, you'll get over it. But I haven't, Oliver! I haven't heard from them in seven years! And now I'm a teenage mother! I bet my darling older sister Arrietty would love to see me now. She's a doctor Oliver and I'm stuck with a kid, no life except changing nappies!"  
  
Paris forcefully wiped her eyes and felt a little embarrassed for talking about her family, it felt odd. She hadn't spoken Arrietty's name in ages. She hated her older sister but Paris still missed her. Arrietty had been the favorite, more pretty, much more smarter...no, Paris wasn't going there.  
  
"You're not the only with problems you know. No-one ever asks me how I'm feeling or why I like Quidditch so much. I like it because I have no choice," Oliver said quietly.  
  
"What?" Paris said suddenly. It was like Oliver had just said he was giving up breathing.  
  
"I have three older brothers. Three of the smuggest, most obnoxious wankers that have ever graced this earth and I'm their widdle baby bruvver Oli who can't win the stupid Quidditch Cup. You don't have to see your sister, my brothers make sure they see me. All three of them team Captains, all three won the Cup, all three now professional players. It's wonderful," Oliver said bitterly.  
  
Paris' mouth hung open in probably the most unattractive way possible. She never knew Oliver had brothers!  
  
"I, didn't, I had no idea Oliver," Paris stuttered.  
  
"You wouldn't. Robert left as I started and Daniel and Devon had already left. Plus, you never asked," Oliver replied. It was very true, Oliver just struck Paris as an only child. He was confident and rather protective of his things.  
  
"I'm sorry," Paris said feebly.  
  
"Don't matter. We all have problems," Oliver said roughly. "Now to sort out this one." He pointed to Paris' stomach.  
  
"I understand if you don't want to continue things," Paris said shakily. Of course she wouldn't understand!  
  
"Paris. Do you really think I'm going to say goodbye and that'll be it? You think I'd do that to you?" Oliver asked. Paris shrugged. He might.  
  
"Of course I'm not going to! I can't just stop seeing you, you're in all my classes and my Seeker. Plus, I'm not that horrible. That little thing that is now growing happily inside you is mine as well as yours. I don't quite understand this prophecy thing yet but I'll stand by you and I'll do my best to be a good Dad. It's what we have to do, you heard Dumbledore, we were chosen for this. We were meant to have a baby. It's supposed to be joyous news, Paris," Oliver said.  
  
"I know. I just can't believe I'm pregnant. What is everyone going to say?" Paris said, thinking about the fit Marino would have when she found out Paris was going to get fat.  
  
"Maybe we'll just keep it quiet until we're comfortable with it. I'm telling you now Paris, I'm more scared than I've ever been in my life," Oliver admitted. Paris laughed a little and Oliver kissed her.  
  
"We can do this," Oliver whispered. "I'll make sure we do it."  
  
Paris smiled into Oliver's chest, she felt safe and she felt loved. And she wasn't so scared anymore.  
  



	9. The Truth Hurts

Paris laid in bed wide awake.  
  
She had too many things on her mind to sleep, one thing in particular was worrying her most. Her family.  
  
Not that she considered them her family anymore, they were more like the people who brought her up, not doing a very good job about it either.  
  
Paris often wondered what her Mum and Dad were doing, where they lived now and what their house was like. Paris didn't like admitting it but she sort of missed them. She even missed Arrietty a little. A really, really tiny little bit.  
  
Oliver was and will be the only person Paris has ever discussed her family to, she said some things to him Paris hadn't even admitted to herself. They laid on the grass for a very long time talking about the future and memories of the past. And where it had all gone wrong.  
  
Paris was very reluctant to leave Oliver but he insisted. Two nights not in your own bed isn't a very good example to anyone. And Paris was Head Girl, blah, blah, blah.  
  
When she got her badge in the summer, Paris had been so happy. Mrs. Weasley was over the moon and it had made Paris feel great but now, it didn't seem so important anymore. It was just a badge after-all and Paris was just one of many Head Girls, nothing special there.  
  
Paris rolled over onto her back and stared at the ceiling, praying for sleep to come. She listened to Marino sleep, she was snoring slightly. Paris had to tell Marino soon, she would flip out but Marino was her best girlfriend. Paris realized she hadn't really been a good friend to Marino at all these past years.  
  
The other seventh year girls Paris barely knew. There was Indie, who was a small and delicate kind of girl with soft features and pale, pale skin. She was part fairy which explained a lot.  
  
Artemis was a very sure of herself kind of girl. She had a very posh, plummy accent and always referred to her mother and father as 'Mummy and Daddy.' Always wearing the top fashion, Artemis would've gotten on nicely with Arrietty.  
  
If Paris was asked to name Indie's favorite subject or favorite food, she wouldn't know. All she knew about Artemis was she was abit of a stuck up cow and not if she had any brothers of sisters or what she planned to do in the future.  
  
Paris realized she was a bit of a cow herself really. Preoccupied with her own life to worry about anyone else's. She had known these girls for seven years now, she slept in the same room as them but they were like strangers.  
  
Paris didn't really know much about anyone really, except the Weasley's and now Oliver. But then who had asked her about her life? Marino certainly hadn't.  
  
"Stop it," Paris said firmly to herself. "Get yourself off your high horse and stop it."  
  
Paris felt guilty for thinking bad things about her friends. Friends, they were her friends and they deserved to be treated better.  
  
Just like Mum, Dad and Arrietty were her family.  
  
Without thinking, Paris leant over her bed and fished in her school bag for a piece of parchment and a quill. She sat up in bed and began scrawling a letter to her family, explaining everything concerning this pregnancy and Oliver and just everything.  
  
When Paris finished about half an hour later, she had scribbled about two foot of parchment and her handwriting was small. Paris sealed it over with her wand and got out of bed and slipped on her dressing gown.  
  
She left her room and padded down the stairway and into Gryffindor common room. It was empty and rather spooky but Paris strode out the portrait hole and along the corridor toward the Owlery.  
  
If Paris wasn't delusional from sleep depravation then she would've worried about Mrs. Norris or Filch but she hurried down the corridors and up stairways until she reached the slender brick tower which was the Owlery.  
  
All the Owls were sleeping and Paris strained her eyes to find her own Owl, Nelly.  
  
"Nelly? Nelly! Wake up, I need you," Paris hissed at her brown owl, who was sleeping soundly. Nelly gave a weak hoot and didn't budge.  
  
"Nelly, get down! I know it's late girl but I need you," Paris continued. Nelly gave a louder hoot and flew from her perch down onto Paris' out stretched arm.  
  
"Good girl, good girl. Now take this to Mr. and Mrs. Knightley. I don't know their address but find them ok? I'll have a huge treat waiting for you when you come back," Paris whispered, tying the letter to Nelly's out stretched leg.  
  
Paris led Nelly to the window and gave her feathery head a little kiss. Paris watched Nelly disappear into the night which didn't take too long.  
  
Nelly was a present from Mr. and Mrs. Weasley when Paris became a Prefect. Percy got Hermes as his present for becoming a Prefect too and Mrs. Weasley bought Fred and George some chocolate because she felt sorry for them. She soon regretted it though when they blew up their bedroom later that day.  
  
It was very cold in the Owlery and Paris hurried to make her way back to bed where it was warm and snuggly.  
  
"Lookie who it is," a voice said, cutting through the silenced corridor. Paris almost screamed out in shock and turned gingerly to see who it was, her mind creating a number of stories in her defense.  
  
"Marcus?" Paris said, squinting in the darkness. Marcus' face appeared as he walked closer to a flaming torch on the wall.  
  
"You're out of bounds, back to Slytherin Dungeon this instant!" Paris ordered though her heart was hammering.  
  
"Paris, Paris, how many times do I have to tell you? I don't take orders from Mudbloods," Marcus said slowly as if talking to a child.  
  
"You will do as I say," Paris said, her lack of sleep also meant a very short fuse.  
  
Marcus came closer until he was close enough to touch.  
  
"You'll want to hear what I have to say," Marcus said, his voice low and dangerous.  
  
"Believe me, I won't. Now go back to bed or it's fifty points from Slytherin," Paris threatened but Marcus stood his ground.  
  
"I can't believe someone as idiotic as you is going to be a mother. That poor child, having you as a mother and that half-wit Wood as a father. I almost feel sorry for the brat," Marcus said, smiling cruelly as Paris' expression turned to one of horror.  
  
"How do you, how, how?" Paris stuttered, utterly taken aback.  
  
"Ah," Marcus said and leant toward Paris. She felt his hand creep into her dressing gown pocket and realized she had put the prophecy in there. She was too mortified to stop him.  
  
"Lookie here, here's your initials and Wood's and look who these initials are," Marcus said. He pointed to the set under Paris' name. "M.R.F. Now who do we know who has those initials?" Marcus pointed at the 'M' and Paris was almost sick.  
  
"Marcus, Randall, Flint," Marcus said, pointing to each letter as he said the names.  
  
Paris looked up at Marcus in horror. He was right. His stupid name was on the prophecy. He had something to do with it!  
  
"Your middle name is Randall?" Paris said, almost wanting to laugh.  
  
"Yes and I believe yours is Trojan. How, erm, lovely," Marcus said nastily. He put the tablet back into Paris' pocket.  
  
"I'd be nicer to me if I were you. Wouldn't want me to slip up and say something to say, the whole Slytherin house now would you?" Marcus taunted. Paris wanted to do nothing more than to swing her fist at him.  
  
"You're despicable," Paris spat.  
  
"Yeah and you're ugly. Pretty equal I'd say," Marcus said off handly. Paris hated him, hated him more than anything in the world.  
  
"You're not going to cry, are you? Like you did in Potions a few weeks ago?" Marcus said, feigning sympathy. Paris was ready to pull her wand and curse the slime ball, not cry.  
  
"No," Paris said. "You can't hurt me Marcus, not one little bit. You're nothing more than bullying, close-minded scum and I'll be damned if you have anything to do with my life and my baby," Paris said and turned on her heel and practically ran all the way back to Gryffindor Tower.  
  
She couldn't wait for Potions tomorrow, how lovely it will be. 


	10. Confession Time

"God, what's wrong with you? You look awful," George said, not bothering to keep his voice down as Paris tripped over to Gryffindor table Monday morning.  
  
"I didn't sleep too well and thanks," Paris replied waspishly. She absolutely shattered, she hadn't slept a wink last night.  
  
"Looks like you haven't slept in about three months. Christ," Fred added, before shoving a forkful of bacon and eggs in his mouth.  
  
Paris caught Angelina, Alicia and Katie smirking knowingly at her. She shook her head as if to say 'No, it wasn't Oliver keeping awake.'  
  
"Good morning!" Oliver said brightly, sitting down next to Paris. "Christ, are you alright?" He added as he noticed the dark circles around Paris' eyes after he kissed her cheek.  
  
"I'm fine, didn't sleep," Paris muttered. She was bracing herself for when Marino clocked her. She'd shriek about the state of Paris' hair and skin when she noticed and Paris was in no mind to deal with that today.  
  
"Oliver, I need to speak to you. Before Potions," Paris said quietly to her boyfriend who was now happily eating porridge.  
  
"Why? Are you alright, seriously?" Oliver said, his voice low.  
  
"No, not really," Paris replied and gave her eyes a rub. "Come on, let's go."  
  
Paris and Oliver got up without a word and nearly left unnoticed.  
  
"Where are you two off to?" Fred demanded.  
  
"I need to speak to Oliver. Shut up and eat your breakfast. Oh and I want all of you, that's you Fred, George, Angelina, Alicia, Katie to meet me in the Gryffindor changing room at six o'clock tonight. Pass on the message to Percy and Marino please," Paris said in one long sentence. She dragged Oliver away before anyone had a chance to question.  
  
"Marcus knows," Paris said instantly as soon as they were out of the Hall.  
  
"What?" Oliver said sharply.  
  
"He knows about the Prophecy and part of it has to do with him. Look," Paris sighed, producing the stone.  
  
"Paris! You're supposed to keep it somewhere safe!" Oliver said when he saw their Prophecy.  
  
"Never mind that. Look at these initials, they're Marcus.' His middle name is Randall," Paris said gravely. Oliver studied the stone hard.  
  
"I already sorta guessed. They looked like his initials and I know because the Captain's full names are always on the lists of the teams for Quidditch. I didn't want to believe it though," Oliver admitted.  
  
"I know," Paris said.  
  
"How'd you find out?" Oliver asked suddenly, looking at Paris.  
  
"I couldn't sleep so I wrote a letter last night to my parents, you know to try and clear the air. I bumped into Marcus in the corridor. I don't know what he was doing, it was about two in the morning," Paris explained.  
  
"Two in the morning? Paris, you shouldn't be wandering the school in your condition at two in the morning!" Oliver scolded. Paris rolled her eyes.  
  
"I'm going to tell our friends before they hear it from him," She said quickly.  
  
"I thought you wanted to wait till we were comfortable with it. We haven't properly talked about it, don't you think we should talk to McGonagall about this? Or Dumbledore?" Oliver said uncomfortably.  
  
"No, we need to tell them now. Tonight before they hear it as a rumour. They deserve to hear it first, from us. I'll go to Dumbledore about Marcus later. I can't worry about him now," Paris sighed just as the bell went for class.  
  
"Looks like you'll have to. We've got Potions," Oliver said, hoisting his bag further onto his shoulder. "Come on."  
  
Paris was sitting bolt upright on the bench in the Gryffindor changing room. She looked straight ahead, her mind buzzing with thoughts.  
  
Her friends wouldn't be here for another ten minutes but Paris needed to figure out what she was going to say first and foremost.  
  
The changing room bulged with memories, the walls aching to spill their secrets. Paris felt an old air of nervousness about the place from pre match jitters, many of which were Paris' own.  
  
It was here that Paris first spoke to Oliver all those years ago. It was here she had struck up friendships with Angelina, Alicia and Katie and the players before them.  
  
Paris had cried in here, laughed in here, been shouted at in here.  
  
But now it felt so strange, so distant. The changing room was hers, the Gryffindor's. But it felt alien now. It would have to add one more memory tonight, something the changing room would probably never see again.  
  
"Paris?" Oliver emerged through the door, his hair wet and stuck on his forehead.  
  
"I've been looking for you, you didn't come down for dinner."  
  
Oliver closed the door, shutting out the cold and the rain and came and sat down next to Paris.  
  
"I couldn't eat," Paris replied, now looking at all the old team photos that adorned the far wall. Paris was on seven of them.  
  
"I've had Marino pestering me all day. More like threatening me actually," Oliver said, ruffling his hair, tempting it to dry.  
  
"Me too," Paris replied and smiled. There was no-one like Marino.  
  
"You really going to do this? Are you ready?" Oliver asked, turning to Paris. She met his eyes and felt comfortable in his gaze.  
  
"It's the right thing to do," She said quietly and checked the clock that hung above the door. Five to six.  
  
Paris remembered wishing and praying the time would slow before a match, anything to put it off. Matches always made her so nervous.  
  
Oliver slipped his arm around Paris' shoulders and kissed her cheek affectionately.  
  
"I love you Paris," He said quietly. Paris rested her head on his shoulder.  
  
"I love you too. More than anything," Paris said sincerely and meant it.  
  
"Get out of my way! I'm going in first!" Marino broke the calm as she burst through the door, immediately scaling the room. She had apparently elbowed both twins out of the way. "You're already here! Good, tell me what it is!" Was Marino's first words to Paris and Oliver.  
  
Behind her, Angelina, Alicia, Katie and Percy filed in quietly and sat down on the bench opposite Paris and Oliver. They all looked worried and interested at the same time.  
  
"Sit down Marino," Paris said, sitting up straight again. "Sit down, we'll tell you all everything."  
  
Marino sat down in a huff next to Percy and folded her arms and waited. Fred, George and Lee Jordan had now come in and were causing trouble trying to find seats.  
  
"Lee insisted on coming," Angelina explained to Paris. Paris didn't mind, everyone would know soon enough anyway.  
  
"Now can you tell us what's going on?" Marino piped up when the twins had finally sat down.  
  
Paris looked at Oliver and took a deep breath. She was going to do all the talking apparently.  
  
"I'm pregnant," Paris said clearly. It took a few seconds for everyone to realize what she had said.  
  
"WHAT?" Everyone bar Percy said at once. Then the room exploded. Everyone was talking at once and Paris couldn't make head nor tail of anything they were saying.  
  
"Shut up!" Oliver bellowed in his best Quidditch practice twins misbehaving voice.  
  
The room fell silent.  
  
"Shut up all of you and let us explain," Oliver continued, glaring at everyone.  
  
"Someone had better explain this," Fred said angrily.  
  
"I am pregnant. You heard correctly, I am pregnant and am going to have a baby," Paris said slowly.  
  
"But how?" Katie cried, clearly not understanding.  
  
"Merlin!" George cried, giving Katie a patronizing look. "How'd you think she got pregnant? Getting struck by lightning?"  
  
"George," Paris said. "Don't."  
  
"When did this happen?" Fred demanded. He did not look impressed at all.  
  
"Saturday night," Paris sighed.  
  
"It's only Monday night! How do you even know you are...you are...you know?!" Fred said, reddening a little.  
  
Paris took a breath, what she was about to say sounded ridiculous.  
  
"Dumbledore told us yesterday," Paris said and before anyone could say anything, Paris produced the prophecy. "Look at this."  
  
She passed the stone to Fred and everyone squeezed close to get a good look.  
  
"This doesn't prove anything!" Fred said. "Those could be anyone's initials. What does it mean anyway?"  
  
Paris took back the prophecy.  
  
"Here's Oliver's. Oliver James Wood. Here's the date, which is the thirty first of October two thousand and three - that was the date on Saturday. Here's my initials, Paris Trojan Knightley. Underneath are some more initials which we aren't sure of yet and a date we have no clue about. Now these initials - M.R.F. they're the reason we wanted to tell you tonight. They belong to Marcus Flint or Marcus Randall Flint to be precise and there's another date and number we have no idea about either. Marcus knows about this, he told me last night. I wanted to tell you myself before you heard it from him," Paris explained.  
  
Everyone looked like they had been petrified.  
  
"You know what this means don't you?" Marino said suddenly.  
  
"What?" Paris said.  
  
"You're going to get stretch marks!"  
  
It was a very, very long and detailed night for Paris. Everyone wanted to know absolutely everything starting from Saturday night to this moment in time.  
  
They asked every possible question they could think of ranging from baby names to marriage to extremely personal questions about Saturday night.  
  
All dignity Paris may have once had was thrown out of the window as the group didn't take 'no comment' as a suitable answer.  
  
Paris had also over come her own worst enemy, the inability to speak about her family.  
  
They had wanted to know what Paris was doing at two o'clock in the morning in the Owlery and Paris had no choice but to explain the long and sad story of her life. Her friends finally knew who she really was. No more secrets.  
  
"Paris? Are you asleep?" Marino hissed from her bed when everyone had called it a night and went to bed.  
  
"No, are you?" Paris hissed back, smiling at their little joke they had done since first year.  
  
Paris heard Marino get out of bed and felt her get into Paris' own bed.  
  
"I can't sleep, I'm thinking about all kinds of stuff," Marino whispered.  
  
"Me too," Paris whispered back.  
  
"I'm sorry about your mum and dad. I had no idea Par, why'd you never tell me?" Marino whispered as she tucked her arm around Paris' waist and gave her best friend squeeze.  
  
"I didn't think you'd want to know. I'm sorry," Paris whispered sheepishly.  
  
"Of course I'd want to know. From now on we tell each other everything ok? I'll always be here for you Par, always be ready to listen. You're my best friend," Marino said, her eyes glistening with tears.  
  
"Thanks Marino," Paris whispered, close to tears herself.  
  
"I'm so happy for you and Oliver, I want you to know that. I'm glad you found someone as good as him. He'll take care of you Paris and if he doesn't, I'll deck him," Marino said and Paris muffled a laugh.  
  
"I'm scared Marino. I'm not ready to have a baby," Paris whispered desperately.  
  
"You'll be fine, you've got Oliver, me, the girls, the twins even. We won't let you down, I'll make sure of it," Marino reassured.  
  
Paris smiled gratefully and closed her eyes and fell into a well deserved sleep. 


	11. True Colours

"WHO?" Oliver demanded, swinging around and facing Katie. "Tell me it's a joke. You cannot be serious."  
  
Katie rolled her eyes.  
  
"See, I knew I shouldn't have told you. But no, I thought, Oliver is my friend, he deserves to know. He'll understand!"  
  
"He's on a rival team, Katie!" Oliver said through gritted teeth. "The Captain of the team we're about to play!"  
  
"Paris! Talk to him!" Katie said to Paris who was minding her own.  
  
"Me?" She replied, smiling at Oliver sweetly. His expression didn't soften. "Come on Oliver, what's the big deal?" Paris said soothingly, like she used to when he got extra stressed over Quidditch, mainly due to the twins not turning up or something.  
  
"I agree with Oliver. It's like spitting on your own team Katie," Fred said unhelpfully.  
  
"Oh shut up! I like Roger and he likes me. End of story," Katie said stubbornly, folding her arms. Paris wanted to laugh. Instead she caught Angelina's eye and winked at her.  
  
"Y'know," Alicia said, who was normally quite quiet. "Roger is a Beater, isn't he? Well if he's seeing Katie, he'll hardly want to aim a Bludger at her, will he?"  
  
Paris could almost see Oliver's mind calculating what Alicia had just said.  
  
"That's right! Good Alicia! Chasers, pass the Quaffle to Katie alot. If she wants to date the rivals then she can do the hard work!" Oliver said, happier but still unforgiving. Katie didn't care, she grinned at Paris, Angelina and Alicia who all grinned back.  
  
Since the Halloween Ball, Katie had received much attention from various housed Hogwarts boys. It was the first time Katie had really shone, usually she had her hair in a plait, and was soaked and muddy from Quidditch practice. But now she started to take care of her appearance and Paris noticed the tiny tinge of make up on Katie's face.  
  
"Come on then," Oliver said gruffly, checking the clock. He was very agitated today, what with playing Ravenclaw who were very good, Katie dating Roger and Paris playing in her state.  
  
"Are you sure you'll be alright?" Oliver said, when Paris came and stood next to him at the doors.  
  
"Yes. I'll be fine, it's a clear day, Ravenclaw aren't dirty players and I've put a spell on myself anyway. Stop worrying," Paris reassured. Oliver didn't want Paris to play today or any other time for that matter. Paris sure as hell wasn't having that.  
  
The doors opened and the noise hit them. The sky was a murky colour and threatening to rain but clear enough. Oliver led his team out to meet Ravenclaw and Madam Hooch.  
  
Katie smiled shyly at Roger, who smiled back. Oliver didn't look too impressed at all.  
  
"Captains, shake please," Madam Hooch said. Roger out-stretched his hand and Oliver shook it briskly. "Team, shake please."  
  
Paris shook hands with the Ravenclaw Seeker, Cho Chang. Paris did not like Cho very much even though she tried. She was a very cold and uninviting person who seemed to always be wearing a scowl, much like Pansy.  
  
Madam Hooch blew her whistle and the teams rose into the sky. Paris burst into the changing rooms, getting away from the deafening roars of the crowd. She was tired and dirty but happier than she had been in a long time.  
  
Following behind were the rest of the Gryffindor Quidditch team, all screaming and shouting with each other.  
  
"Did you see that goal I scored? The last one? My best yet I should imagine!" Angelina was shouting to anyone who would listen.  
  
"Did you see that Bludger that just missed Paris? Davies has gotten way better over the summer," Fred said to George as he chucked his Beaters bat onto the bench and almost took the head off a small owl with a letter attached to it's leg.  
  
"Merlin! Paris, I almost killed Nelly there! What's she doing here?" Fred shouted to Paris as Nelly hooted unhappily at Fred.  
  
"Nelly?" Paris said, scanning the room for her owl. "Nelly!"  
  
Paris rushed over to her and untied the letter. She almost forgot to give her Owl the treat she had promised her earlier.  
  
"Is it from your Mum?" Oliver asked.  
  
"I don't know," Paris replied truthfully. It was a Muggle letter because it was in an envelope with a stamp on it. Paris opened it and took out an expensive looking piece of paper. She unfolded it and read the first line.  
  
"From the desk of Arrietty Knightley - Morrietty," Paris read aloud. "It's from bloody Arrietty!"  
  
"Arrietty Spaghetti!" Fred and George said together. Even though Paris was horrified at the fact her sister had written to her, she couldn't help smiling at Fred and George. They always used to call her Arrietty Spaghetti and Arrietty hated it with a vengeance.  
  
"Your sister?" Katie asked, confused.  
  
"Yeah," Paris replied, re-reading the name. "Arrietty Knightley - Morrietty," She repeated. "She's married!"  
  
"Married? To someone with a last name of Morrietty! Arrietty Spaghetti Morrietty! No wonder she kept the Knightley, to break it up. You have no idea how much I'd love to see her again, especially with that last name!" George cried, grinning. Paris smiled and went back to reading the letter. It wasn't very long but Paris got angrier and angrier as she went on.  
  
"What did it say?" Oliver asked when Paris finished. Paris sat down on the bench and held the letter up for all to see. Everyone gathered in and began reading:  
  
From the desk of Arrietty Knightley - Morrietty.  
  
To my estranged younger sister Paris,  
  
I cannot express how lucky it was that I happened to be home the day that dreadful bird delivered your letter. Mummy would've had such a shock had she read your long and rather boring letter of your life since the age of eleven. (I happened to notice your spelling isn't what it should be - we told you that freak school wasn't going to help your future.)  
  
I see you've been very busy - I hardly understood a thing you were rambling about but 'pregnant' rang loud and clear. I'm not surprised at all, you never were going to amount to much anyway, always running wild with those red headed children. Not lady like at all.  
  
Do not write to Mummy or Dad again. They haven't spoken of you for seven years and aren't about to start. I don't particularly relish writing back to you but you can't just expect us to come running because you've gotten yourself sprung. Someone needed to tell you and unfortunately it had to be me.  
  
We've been fine without you. I'm almost a qualified doctor (I even helped deliver Romeo Beckham) and I've a wonderful husband and a baby of my own named Jared. We don't need you Paris so get the message and stay away. If you send that Owl again, I'll feed it to my dog.  
  
Yours, Arrietty Knightley - Morrietty.  
  
When everyone finished reading, there was a silence.  
  
"What a total and utter cow!" Angelina said angrily.  
  
"See she hasn't changed, the ever lovely Arrietty," Fred said sarcastically, sitting down opposite Paris. Angelina sunk down next to him, speechless.  
  
"I'm sorry," Oliver said quietly and sat down next to Paris.  
  
"Don't," Paris replied. "Just don't."  
  
No-one really knew what to say for a long time. What could they say?  
  
"Spaghetti used to have the hugest crush on Charlie," Fred said suddenly, grinning widely. Paris looked up, slightly confused.  
  
"Charlie Weasley?" Alicia asked.  
  
"Yeah, she always flirted with him but Charlie wouldn't have any of it. Good times," George reminisced. Paris began laughing quite loudly.  
  
"Can you, rem - remember the time she wrote, wrote Charlie that poem?" Paris said between gasps for breath as she was laughing so much. Fred and George roared with laughter whilst Angelina, Katie, Alicia and Oliver watched in confusion.  
  
"I'd totally forgotten!" Fred roared, wiping tears from his eyes. "Thanks Par, I needed that!"  
  
"HUH?" Angelina, Katie, Alicia and Oliver said together which made Fred, George and Paris laugh harder.  
  
They explained the poem to them and told them all the old memories they could remember of their childhood. Soon, the changing room was howling with laughter and the letter lay forgotten. "What in the name of all things magical is a Romeo Beckham!?" Marino shrieked, momentarily looking away from the letter and to Paris.  
  
"A baby I think. He's the son of a famous Muggle couple," Paris explained lightly. She was cuddled up with Oliver on a big arm chair opposite Marino, who was reading the letter in Gryffindor common room. Fred and George were on the carpet floor, playing chess.  
  
Marino continued reading until she had finished.  
  
"She is one mean bitch," She said after a few minutes of thinking. "I can just see my darling twin sisters being like her when they're older."  
  
"How old are they?" Oliver asked.  
  
"Seven. Sapphire and Opal, the little gems of my mother and father's eye. They make me want to gag with their little sickly voices. They're absolute cows to me and kids at their school but they never do it in front of their teachers or parents. Most brats are masterminds like that," Marino said, finishing with a sigh.  
  
"Don't worry Rini, you can move out soon," Paris said with a smile.  
  
"True. Hey, I guess me and you won't be moving in together anymore," Marino said with a sly smile. Paris had completely forgotten she and Marino were supposed to move in together.  
  
"Oh Marino, I," Paris began but Marino held up her hand.  
  
"I'm just teasing. Anyway, I might not want to move in with you now. I've got Percy after-all," She said. Paris and Oliver looked at Marino, willing one another to laugh. After a minute, they all broke out into giggles.  
  
"I think I'll go to bed. Leave you two love birds to it. Come on you pair," Marino added, nudging George in the ribs.  
  
"Merlin! Woman, you just made me lose!" George cried while Fred laughed.  
  
"Get up those stairs now. It's beddy byes time for little boys!" Marino said in a sing song voice. The twins did not look pleased but they did what they were told, Marino followed behind them making sure they went.  
  
"How'd she do that?" Oliver asked, bewildered.  
  
"I dunno, I wonder that myself. She got Percy to do all sorts after just a few days of going out with him," Paris replied. Oliver sighed.  
  
"I think I know then."  
  
"No, it's not that. Percy's lucky Marino will even kiss him. Marino's got too much to gain to give herself up that easily," Paris explained sagely. Oliver sighed again, girls were weird.  
  
"I want to ask you something anyway," Oliver said, putting Marino out of his head.  
  
"What?" Paris replied, pushing some hair from her eyes so she could look at Oliver better.  
  
"About when we leave school. What're we going to do? I mean the boy will be here, won't he? Are you going to go back to the Burrow? I'm not sure how this'll work," Oliver began mumbling.  
  
"We'll have to get a house," Paris said simply.  
  
"With what? Toenails? I don't have any money Paris. It's what's been worrying me since I found out. I can't buy you stuff like a house, I can't support you or anything!" Oliver began getting louder and louder.  
  
"Oliver! Shut up! Don't worry, we'll cross that bridge when we come to it. Things will work out. I'm sure We can stay with Molly, I'll get a job or something. Don't worry," Paris said soothingly.  
  
"You will not get a job!" Oliver said before he could stop himself. Paris gave him a hard look.  
  
"Oh?"  
  
"I mean," Oliver stammered. "Of course you can get a job, but I meant I'll get a job to help set us up. You'll want to be at home, with the baby, won't you?" Oliver said, regretting every word.  
  
"You great big prat," Paris laughed and kissed Oliver quickly on the lips. "Don't you ever change, ok?"  
  
Oliver nodded, feeling slightly pleased with himself but not really knowing why.  
  
"I think we need to tell our families too," Paris added quietly. Oliver's heart sunk, he didn't particularly relish the thought of writing to his mother and telling her he got his girlfriend pregnant.  
  
"Yeah, I know," Oliver said grimly. "What joy that will be."  
  
"I'm not really sure how Molly and Arthur will take it. I mean, I really don't know. Technically I'm not theirs but in many ways I am. I hope they understand," Paris said, cuddling closer to Oliver and feeling his fleecy jumper on her face.  
  
"Everything will work out. Just like you said," Oliver replied, kissing the top of Paris' head lightly.  
  
"Yeah," Paris replied sleepily. "We'll do it tomorrow." 


	12. Clearing Things Up

"So?" Paris asked, biting her lip in anticipation.  
  
"I think I'm going to change mine," Oliver said quickly, grabbing for his letter.  
  
"No! Leave it, it's nice and it comes from you," Paris said, prying his letter out of his hands. "What about mine?"  
  
"It's really good. And explained a lot better. Please let me change mine!" Oliver said desperately, leaning across the table again to grab for the parchment.  
  
"There's no time, we need to send them now before the Christmas rush," Paris replied, sealing Oliver's and her own letter with her wand.  
  
Paris had written her letter to Molly and Arthur Weasley in about half an hour. She wrote in her small, neat writing in clear, consisive ways.  
  
Oliver had taken three hours to write his, spilt his ink twice and broken five quills. His hand was still shaking. Clearly, his family wouldn't be too pleased at the contents.  
  
"Come on, let's take them now then we'll be in time for Madam Pomfry. Actually we'll be a little early which never hurt anyone," Paris said, standing up. Oliver went a little pale, or paler than he already was.  
  
"I forgot about Madam Pomfry. Oh, she isn't going to poke you about with stuff, is she?" Oliver asked, pulling a face.  
  
"Probably," Paris said off handly. "Come on."  
  
Madam Pomfry had declared herself Paris' midwife and as she was the only qualified doctor in miles, Paris didn't mind one bit.  
  
She knew Madam Pomfry well, as did most of the Quidditch teams due to their injuries they got almost every time they played Quidditch. Paris and Oliver's parents slash guardians were well aware of what The Gemini prophecy was all about. It was a myth like story but with a twist, it was actually true.  
  
Never had any of them thought in a million years that their children (in Paris' case, their sort of adopted child) were going to be part of one of the oldest prophecies in the world.  
  
"I hope they take this right way," Oliver sighed as he carried one of the school barn owls to the window in the Owlery. "I can just imagine their faces."  
  
"Well it's out of their control. We're adults Oliver and it wasn't our fault we were chosen for this prophecy thing. They'll have to take it the right way. It's a happy time for us and should be for them," Paris said, carrying Nelly to the window also.  
  
"It's only brought problems so far," Oliver said quietly, releasing his owl. Paris did the same and they watched them fly away in different directions, carrying their letters.  
  
"I know but it won't be a problem. We were shocked but the sooner we embrace this, the sooner we can be happy. You are happy about having a baby, aren't you?" Paris asked as she and Oliver left the Owlery hand in hand.  
  
"Of course I am Paris! It's just I never expected to have children, especially this early and especially with you," Oliver replied.  
  
"Pardon?" Paris said, looking at Oliver. Was he saying he was too good for her?  
  
"You, you're all happy and popular and so pretty. I never quite imagined you'd settle with me, of all people," Oliver admitted. Paris felt the intense urge to kick him for being stupid, which was happening more and more often.  
  
"Oliver, if you're telling me that you never felt in your heart that we belong together and knew we would then you're not the Oliver Wood I know. I've known since we met at the Sorting Ceremony that I was going to love you for the rest of my life. It was meant to be Oliver," Paris said, tears stinging her eyes.  
  
"Then why'd you never tell me? Why'd you make me wait all these years while you had the time of your life? Why'd you make me watch you with Charlie if you knew you loved me?" Oliver argued. Paris sighed.  
  
"Because, I was young and unsure and so incredibly shy around you. And you never gave any hint you liked me back," She said simply.  
  
Oliver was quiet because he knew it was true. In truth, he had been quite mean to Paris over the years. Not calling her names mean but not really talking to her or bothering to get to know her. He now knew what he had been missing out on.  
  
"Then I'm sorry. Things will work out, I just need time. I'm scared but you know I'll do anything for you and whoever's in there," Oliver promised. He patted her tummy lightly, lovingly.  
  
Before they knew it, they were standing outside the hospital wing. They had came here without realizing.  
  
"Go on," Oliver said, pushing open the door for Paris. She hesitated for a moment and looked up at Oliver. She gave him a smile and went through the doors.  
  
"At last!" Madam Pomfry yelled. "Where have you been?"  
  
"Sorry Miss, posting letters," Paris said, approaching the matron. Madam Pomfry was a stern looking woman but she could be kindly when she wanted to. Today, she chose not to be.  
  
"Sit down and take your jacket off. Yes?" Madam Pomfry noticed Oliver standing awkwardly at the door. Paris sat on the bed and slid her jacket off, watching Oliver, bemused.  
  
"Are you staying or going? Staying, get over here, sit down and hush up. Going, go then," Madam Pomfry said shortly. Oliver hurried and sat down on a chair facing Paris.  
  
"Glad we cleared that up. Now hold still while I check your blood pressure," Madam Pomfry instructed, wrenching Paris' arm to her and wrapping an arm band around her upper arm. Sometime the Muggle way was the best way.  
  
Madam Pomfry made a satisfied noise and put the blood pressure pump away.  
  
She checked in Paris' mouth and eyes, weighed and measured her and also took a blood sample, after seeing said sample, Oliver had to be excused so he could lay in one of the beds until his hyperventilating ceased.  
  
"Well you seem healthy enough. Any problems so far?" Madam Pomfry asked.  
  
"No, not really. I feel a bit sick sometimes and a bit weepy but that's it," Paris replied honestly.  
  
"Well you will do. The sickness can start any day, when it does come to me and I'll give you something for it if you like. I want to see you again before the Christmas holidays but I'll give you a message when the time comes. You're free to leave. That is if Master Wood is up to walking back to Gryffindor Tower," Madam Pomfry said, giving Oliver a hard look. Paris noticed the tiny bit of sarcasm in her tone and suppressed a smile.  
  
"I'm fine," Oliver said sheepishly and put his arm around Paris, mainly to steady himself incase he keeled over. Madam Pomfry rolled her eyes and she and Paris exchanged a small smile. 


	13. Christmas

Christmas was upon Hogwarts before anyone really knew it.  
  
It was Paris and Percy's job to make the Prefects decorate the Great Hall and most of the corridors but Fred, George and Peeves took it upon themselves to wreak as much havoc as humanly or ghostly possible.  
  
The Quidditch season had been halted until after the holidays, so Oliver found himself with very little to do except worry the life out of Madam Hooch about formations and procedures. He had also wrecked his little model of the Quidditch pitch by forcing the tiny bewitched model players do impossible moves. They had resigned due to exhaustion.  
  
Paris was the first out of she and Oliver to get a reply from her letter. Mrs. Weasley's letter contained soothing words that set Paris' mind at ease. The hardest part was almost over.  
  
Oliver's reply came a week later and was a very different story. His mother was shocked mainly and demanded that Oliver bring Paris over for Christmas holidays so she could meet the mother of her future grandson.  
  
After about ten letters, Oliver and his mother had compromised that he would come home for Boxing Day as Mrs. Weasley had invited him to stay with them and Oliver jumped at the chance.  
  
"So we'll be all together at Christmas then?" Marino said cheerfully as she and Paris trudged through the snowy streets of Hogsmeade to do their Christmas shopping.  
  
"Yeah, it'll be lovely. Oh, I really do love Christmas!" Paris exclaimed as she grinned at a dressed up window which had a beautifully decorated Christmas tree displayed in it.  
  
"I'm so glad I don't have to go home. Watching Sapphie and Opal open their piles and piles of presents is not something I relish," Marino said bitterly. She shuddered and wrapped her scarve tighter around her neck.  
  
"Poor Rini," Paris teased, in a voice uncannily similar to her little sisters.  
  
"Merlin it's cold! Come on, let's go in The Three Broomsticks and warm up, Oliver'll kill me if he knows I've made you walk more than a few steps without a break," Marino said, making a sharp right and dragging Paris with her. Paris apologized profusely to the group of elderly women Marino nearly trod on.  
  
The girls found a small booth a sit in and even though it was packed with people all ordering hot mulled wine to warm them up, Marino managed to get served pretty quickly.  
  
Paris and Marino sat, looking at all the different people milling around, sipping their hot Butterbeers.  
  
"Seven weeks today isn't it?" Marino said, before taking a sip of her drink.  
  
"Yep," Paris replied. "I still can't believe it, y'know."  
  
"I know," Marino agreed. "Hey, did you want anything to eat? I forgot to ask."  
  
"Oh no, I feel quite sick actually. I should really go to Madam Pomfry," Paris replied, holding up her hands in protest. "Joys of pregnancy I guess."  
  
"Oh, sorry," Marino said, pulling a face. "You'll start craving things soon, stuff like coal and tree bark and all that. My cousin ate nothing but gooseberries for a week when she was preggers. Nasty."  
  
Paris laughed and was about to take another sip of the warming liquid when a shadow loomed over the table. The unmistakable, big headed, broad shouldered shadow of Marcus Flint.  
  
"Oh hi Marcus, I thought I could smell something nasty," Marino said coldly but smiling sarcastically.  
  
"Steady on Marino, there were some long words there. Don't want to burn yourself out now, do you?" Marcus retorted with a sneer.  
  
"What do you actually want?" Paris said impatiently, setting her glass down. "Because if you've just come over to insult my friend, you can go."  
  
"You're not Head Girl of Hogsmeade, Knightley. I'd be polite if I were you but then I can't really expect much more from a -," Marcus replied but was cut off.  
  
"From a what, Flint? Can't expect much more from a what exactly?" Oliver thundered. Paris and Marino looked up at him in shock.  
  
Marcus faltered slightly but quickly regained his smirk.  
  
"You should know by now Oliver," Marcus replied silkily. "You've heard her called it enough and not just by me. Not just by Slytherin's either."  
  
Paris furrowed her brow as she looked between Marcus and Oliver. Oliver looked murderous.  
  
"Ah well," Marcus said. "Best be off, places to go, Purebloods to see. See you soon Paris."  
  
Marcus stalked off, pushing his way through the crowd of people, leaving Oliver, Paris and Marino staring after him.  
  
"What a complete, total and utter...ah! There are no words to describe him!" Marino said angrily, banging her fist on the wooden table. Oliver sat down next to Paris and kissed her cheek.  
  
"What're you doing here anyway?" Paris asked as Oliver pulled his woolly hat off his head and sending snow everywhere.  
  
"Had something to get. Was he bothering you for long?" Oliver said shortly.  
  
"Nothing we can't handle. You'll be pleased to hear I've looked after her well by the way," Marino said proudly, finishing her drink.  
  
"Good. I missed you," Oliver said, turning to Paris.  
  
"Aww, me too," She giggled. Marino rolled her eyes.  
  
"Where's my good for nothing boyfriend then? Preferably buying me expensive things," Marino asked.  
  
"Um, he's doing homework in the library. Or was when I left," Oliver replied, taking a sip from Paris' glass.  
  
"Honest to Merlin, sometimes I just want to wring his skinny little neck. Doesn't he know it's two days to Christmas? And we're going home tonight!" Marino cried.  
  
"He's got you something Marino, trust me," Paris said, smiling.  
  
"Do you know what it is? Oh, tell me! You know I hate waiting!" Marino begged.  
  
"You'll have to wait the two days," Paris said airily but she was just teasing.  
  
"What have you got me then?" Oliver asked, trying to look in one of the many shopping bags at his feet.  
  
"None of your business! You have to wait too!" Paris laughed, snatching the bags away. "Anyway, we better get back to school. I've got to help the twins pack their stuff, they always manage to forget something!"  
  
"Honestly, you'd think they were six, not sixteen," Marino replied, standing up and collecting her bags. "Come on then, I'll go find Percy and find out if he has got me anything."  
  
Later that evening when everyone was ready and packed, the extended Weasley group were ready to go home for the holiday's.  
  
Fred had blown up his trunk as he'd forgotten he had three packets of Exploding Snap stuffed in the bottom and George wanted to say merry Christmas to every single Gryffindor.  
  
Madam Pomfry had made Paris late by giving her various potions to take in case she couldn't see a Healer over the holidays and she insisted on explaining each and every one in detail.  
  
Marino wanted to take a piece of Mistletoe to the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom and almost got there but Fred and George caught up with her and dragged her away again.  
  
"Are we ready?" Paris said, who was thoroughly worn out. They were standing at the entrance to Hogsmeade, it looking extremely pretty, all lit up with fairy lights and twinkling Christmas trees.  
  
"Yes," came the reply.  
  
"Right, me and Oliver'll go first so we can just have a chat with mum and dad, Marino and Percy'll make sure Fred and George get on the Knight Bus alright then come when they've gone. I've said good-bye to everyone, has everyone posted their presents?" Paris said officially.  
  
"Yes, come on Paris, just Apparate already, it's bloody freezing here!" Fred said impatiently. Paris pursed her lips.  
  
"Alright, see you in a bit," She said and she and Oliver Apparated away to the Burrow.  
  
Christmas Eve went by very fast indeed.  
  
The twins spent most of the day pelting snowballs at anyone and everyone while Paris and Marino helped out in the kitchen with Mrs. Weasley, making cookies the Muggle way.  
  
Charlie and Bill, the eldest Weasley's also came home on Christmas Eve which caused an uproar as no-one had seen them properly for ages. The twins were pestering Bill about the gruesome things in Egypt whilst Oliver was reunited with his hero, Charlie and spent the day discussing Quidditch with him and how well he was managing his team.  
  
The day really kicked off when Charlie accidentally stretched up, showing everyone his new tattoo of a Chinese Fireball. It was on his left side, with it's tail swishing across Charlie's back and it's mouth breathing fire across his stomach.  
  
"It's hideous Charlie!" Was all Mrs. Weasley could say and when she was out of ear shot, everyone admired it quietly.  
  
The snow was falling thick and fast and the temperature dropped very low but inside the Burrow, it was warm and cozy.  
  
Everyone was in high spirits later that evening, all joking and laughing with each other. Marino had even restrained herself from bickering with the twins and was enjoying a game of Exploding Snap with Percy, who had dragged himself away from his homework.  
  
"It's so nice to be all together," Mrs. Weasley said who was sitting on Mr. Weasley's lap.  
  
"Here, here!" Everyone chorused and raised whatever they were drinking.  
  
"And to think, this time next year there'll be a baby in the family," Mrs. Weasley continued, her eyes bright with happiness. Paris and Oliver smiled sheepishly at one another.  
  
"There might even be two," Bill teased, nudging Percy with his foot.  
  
"Ha! Doubtful!" Marino replied just as her cards exploded everywhere.  
  
"I think it's time for bed," Mrs. Weasley said, looking at her husband. "Don't you?"  
  
"Yes dear. Come on, only one more sleep to go till Santa!" Mr. Weasley said to the twins like he used to when they were little.  
  
Everyone slowly packed away whatever they were doing and made for their bedrooms, everyone saying good-night to one another.  
  
"Night Charlie," Paris said and gave him a quick hug. He hadn't changed one single bit.  
  
"Night Par, night Wood," Charlie replied as Paris took Oliver's hand and led him upstairs.  
  
"We don't want to hear any funny noises from you. Or you either," George said turning from Paris and Oliver to Marino and Percy.  
  
"He'll be lucky," Marino retorted and vanished into Percy's bedroom.  
  
Paris shut her bedroom door behind her and flopped down on her bed. She felt so tired and according to Madam Pomfry, would for another couple of weeks.  
  
Oliver came and sat next to her and rubbed her shoulders gently for her. Paris rested her head on Oliver's shoulder and felt like she could go to sleep there and then.  
  
"Paris?" Oliver said in a funny voice.  
  
"What?" Paris replied sleepily, lifting her head up again but barely able to keep her eyes open.  
  
"I want to give you your Christmas present now, while we're alone," Oliver said, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a small, green leather box.  
  
"Oliver? Is that what I think it is?" Paris said nervously, staring at the unmistakable box.  
  
"Probably not but here, just open it," Oliver said, passing it to her.  
  
Paris took it gratefully and eased the lid open slowly. Sure enough, inside was a ring.  
  
"It's lovely Oliver but if it's not...then what is it?" Paris said, looking from the ring to Oliver.  
  
"It's abit hard. It's not an engagement ring...more like a promise ring. I promise you that I will do everything to make you happy. I promise I will always be there for you and most of all I promise I will love you no matter what," Oliver said in the same strangled voice he had used when he told her he loved her at Halloween.  
  
Paris was quiet for a minute then began to cry.  
  
"Paris? What? I'm sorry, I didn't mean to upset you," Oliver said quickly as Paris cried harder.  
  
"It's not that!" Paris cried. "You said all that and got me a ring and all I got you was a new copy of Quidditch through the Ages!"  
  
Oliver laughed. And laughed.  
  
"That's alright, I don't mind. I need a new copy anyway," Oliver said when he'd finished laughing. Paris had finished crying by now.  
  
"Is my face all splotchy?" She asked, her voice still choked slightly.  
  
"Yeah. You look awful," Oliver replied but he was just teasing.  
  
"Shut up," Paris said with a laugh and sniffed and wiped her eyes.  
  
In five minutes they were both undressed and had got in bed.  
  
"We haven't been like this since Halloween," Paris said coyly, pulling her duvet right up so it almost covered their faces.  
  
"Yeah but look where that got us," Oliver replied, stroking Paris' face softly.  
  
"Hmm," She replied sleepily, wrapping her arm around Oliver's waist.  
  
"Do you want to get married one day?" Oliver asked quietly.  
  
"Of course I do. I never imagined myself as someone's wife though. It sounds so grown up. I never thought you'd be my husband. Oh my Merlin! I'd be Mrs. Paris Wood, that's so weird!" Paris said.  
  
"What if we got married in the summer? Then we'd be a proper little family, we could have it here or something," Oliver said.  
  
"Really Oliver? You really want to get married?" Paris asked.  
  
"I wouldn't ask if I didn't want to," Oliver said simply. Paris nodded in agreement.  
  
"Paris Wood. Oliver and Paris Wood. Mr. and Mrs. Oliver and Paris Wood. And baby Wood," Paris said, going over all the possibilities.  
  
"Baby Wood? Is that what he's going to be called?" Oliver said, confused.  
  
"Well no. I don't know, I haven't thought of any names. I don't lay awake naming my unborn children," Paris replied.  
  
"We should really think of a name," Oliver said, yawning.  
  
"We'll do it later," Paris replied and they both fell asleep.  
  
Paris was having a lovely dream when some jumped on her legs and woke her up.  
  
"It's Christmas! Come on!" George was shouting, tearing the duvet off Paris and Oliver, the coldness instantly hitting them.  
  
"Shove off," Oliver mumbled, rolling over so he was face down on his pillow.  
  
"Oh, aren't you in the Christmas spirit? There are presents waiting to be opened and wrecked! Come on!" Fred yelled, pushing Paris out of bed.  
  
It was the same every year. Fred and George were the first ones awake, demanding everyone else get up too. It was amazing that they were almost seventeen really.  
  
Paris stretched and looked outside. Everywhere was snowy and beautiful as far as she could see. Paris could just see the top of her old house, all covered with snow and she sighed silently.  
  
"Merry Christmas!" She yelled cheerfully, grabbing both twins around the neck and pulling them in for a cuddle even though they were much taller than she.  
  
Fred and George allowed her to hug them tightly and they quickly gave her a kiss each on the cheek before running off to jump on Charlie. Oliver had made it out of bed and was yawning widely, stretching his arms up and making himself look very sexy indeed.  
  
"Merry Christmas to you too," Paris giggled, when he'd finished stretching. He grinned at her shyly and pulled her into a cuddle. Paris laid her head on his bare chest and closed her eyes as Oliver breathed in the scent of her hair.  
  
"Stop cuddling and come on!" Fred said impatiently as he poked his head through the door. Paris sighed again and followed him out as Oliver got dressed.  
  
Fred and George had woken everyone in the house, Mrs. Weasley was preparing the Christmas lunch already in the kitchen and Mr. Weasley was peeling some potatoes for her the Muggle way. Everyone exchanged Christmas greetings and all sat down for some breakfast at the recently enlarged kitchen table.  
  
When breakfast was over and everyone had eaten enough, the presents were opened. As there were so many people, there was a good deal of wrapping paper flying everywhere and presents getting mixed up. Owls were arriving with late presents here, there and everywhere and Nelly and Hermes took it upon themselves to act as the gracious host and hostess to the delivery Owls, offering them water and some toast.  
  
Marino had given Paris a t-shirt with 'Mind the Bump' written across it, which she herself had found incredibly amusing and everyone got various items of clothing, sweets, books, jokes and toys.  
  
Paris explained to Marino and Mrs. Weasley about the ring Oliver had given her for Christmas. Mrs. Weasley went teary eyed and had to excuse herself and pretend to be busy with the turkey when really she was wiping her eyes and Marino had a close inspection before giving Paris a hug and shooting daggers at poor Percy who thought he'd done well with the hat he'd given her.  
  
"He is very good looking Paris," Mrs. Weasley giggled when she'd finished 'basting the turkey.' The three women turned and looked at Oliver who was trying to read the instructions on something George had received for Christmas after they'd blown it up twice and thought the instructions might be a good idea.  
  
Oliver looked up and saw the girls turn away and giggle and pretend to look at the decorations in the kitchen. He smoothed his hair down self- consciously and went back to trying to figure out why a puzzle kept setting alight and blowing up.  
  
After the excellent Christmas lunch, everyone went to relax in the living room and sleep or eat more sweets. Mrs. Weasley was relaxing in her arm chair with a small sherry and Percy had his homework out while Marino, Fred and George were listening to stories from Bill.  
  
Paris and Oliver decided they'd like a little wander around, so Paris could show Oliver around her home village.  
  
Wrapped in scarves and hats, they set out wandering down the little pathway that led from The Burrow to the main part of the village.  
  
They passed Cedric's house and waved through the window before Mrs. Diggory opened the door and gave them a mince pie each to be going on with even though their woolly gloves made it difficult to eat.  
  
The snow was falling densely and Paris had never loved her village more even though it was really quite cold. Before Paris really realized, she'd walked to her old house and they were standing at her garden gate.  
  
"Is this your old house?" Oliver asked, moving his scarf from his mouth so he could speak.  
  
"Yep," Paris replied, looking up at the dark, empty windows. Her parents hadn't sold it, they just left so the house remained empty. It was still the same old house though, mostly filled with memories of her childhood with Fred and George.  
  
"Are you going in?" Oliver asked, unlatching the gate ready. Paris hesitated. She didn't really want to, but then, why not?  
  
"Come on then," Paris replied, walking through and taking out her wand. She unlocked the front door and went in. Straight away, a million and one memories came flooding back to her, the stairs where she'd fallen down and broke her arm, the hallway where she always played with her Barbie's, the smell of the paint Arrietty used to use in the study, the oily smell of her father when he'd go in the kitchen to wash his hands after mending his car.  
  
"Cool," Oliver said, looking around at everything. "Muggles live very strangely." He was looking at a plug socket near the stairs then at an old phone on the hall table.  
  
"It's so weird," Paris said, looking around in the kitchen. There were quite a few things left behind, silly things like a kettle and some washing up liquid. It was like it was frozen in time.  
  
"So this house just sits here? Unused?" Oliver asked, touching the kitchen table lightly. Paris nodded and looked out of the kitchen window into the back garden. It looked different, covered in snow and over-grown. And the pond was gone, where she used to keep tadpoles until Fred got a handful and chased Arrietty up the street with them, which in turn led to the banning of tadpoles and Fred.  
  
"We could move in here. It's still under the family name and it looks like they won't be back for it," Oliver said thoughtfully.  
  
Paris turned to him, open mouthed.  
  
"Move in, here?" She repeated. "My old house? But you'd be so far away from your family!"  
  
"I can Apparate can't I? Anyway, it's too good of a chance to pass up. It's a free house basically, no-one will care if you move into your own house again, will they? And it's nice and spacey and well there's been kids grow up here so it's kid friendly. It's close to The Burrow too so we won't be alone," Oliver added. He had clearly been thinking about this for a while.  
  
"It's got three bedrooms. And the garden's quite big when it's tidy," Paris said without thinking. Was she seriously considering moving in here?  
  
"It'll be great Paris. We'll come in the summer and sort it all out, do the garden nicely. I'm sure Fred and George'll help us. We can decorate and make it really nice," Oliver said happily. Paris shook her head in bewilderment.  
  
"What about money?" She asked, looking at him.  
  
"We'll figure it out, anyway, let's be getting back. You look frozen," Oliver said suddenly, his Quidditch voice shining through.  
  
"OK," Paris sighed and left her old house, which could become her new house if Oliver had his way.  
  
When the pair got back to The Burrow, they found everyone reading the same article in the Daily Prophet Christmas Special. Mrs. Weasley only got it because Gilderoy Lockhart was writing a Christmas column and he had kindly dotted pictures of himself around his page.  
  
"What's everyone looking at?" Paris asked, unwrapping her scarf from her neck and shaking snow from her hair.  
  
"Bloody you! You're on the front page!" Fred replied, snatching the paper from his mother and thrusting it under Paris' nose.  
  
"Me?" Paris replied, taking the paper before Fred shoved it down her throat. She held out the paper and smoothed so she could read it. There was a large picture of her and Oliver next to a headline entitled 'Gemini Revealed!'  
  
Paris moved it so Oliver could read. The photo looked like it had been taken when they were waiting for something because they were standing still, laughing at something out of the picture with Paris standing in front of Oliver who had his arms around his waist. Paris watched herself laugh, look away, tuck her hair behind her ear and listen to Oliver again and again.  
  
The article itself was very abrupt, describing what The Gemini were, how it had been spoke of for centuries and plenty of information on what good students Paris and Oliver were etc.  
  
"When did they take that picture?" Oliver asked when he'd finished.  
  
"Looks like when you were waiting for The Knight Bus with Fred and George," Marino said, squinting at the page. "Why isn't there a picture of me? I'm the best friend!"  
  
"Everyone will know now! Practically everyone gets the Christmas special delivered," George offered unhelpfully.  
  
Paris and Oliver exchanged looks. She could just imagine everyone's faces when they saw the front page this morning.  
  
"Well, they were going to find out sooner or later," Oliver shrugged, putting his arm around Paris and giving her shoulders a squeeze.  
  
"Hi Charlie," Paris said quietly. Charlie jumped and whipped his head around so fast he hurt his neck.  
  
"Paris! What are you doing out here?" Charlie asked, rubbing the back of his neck. Charlie was sitting on the grass in the back garden, alone.  
  
"I couldn't sleep," Paris said earnestly. She sat down next to Charlie and shivered. It was a very cold night.  
  
"Where's Wood?" Charlie asked, not looking at Paris, instead looking at the grass.  
  
"Asleep. He's tired and been worrying about tomorrow," Paris sighed.  
  
"Meeting the parents tomorrow. Nice," Charlie replied dully.  
  
"What's wrong with you?" Paris asked. Why was Charlie acting all moody?  
  
"You! I'm...I don't know! This whole pregnant thing is a little too much to handle right now ok?" Charlie snapped back. Paris furrowed her brow but said nothing.  
  
"I haven't seen you for so long Charlie. I couldn't wait any longer," She almost whispered finally.  
  
"This entire prophecy thing, it's nothing to do with me. It never was, it never will be. It's you and Oliver now," Charlie said sadly, ripping up chunks of grass.  
  
"I know," Paris sighed again. Of course she knew, she'd been thinking this over for the past three months.  
  
"I just always assumed it would be me and you. What I get for assuming I suppose," Charlie whispered.  
  
"It would never have been me and you Charlie. Don't blame yourself, all this was meant to be. It's why you left, so I'd be open to Oliver. That's why he spent his life chasing Quaffles instead of girls, so he'd be open to me. That's why we never...never...because it wasn't yours," Paris uttered. No one truly knew their past except themselves and Paris wasn't willing to let prying ears find out.  
  
Charlie was quiet for a long time and it was getting darker and colder.  
  
"I just want your happiness. Oliver can make you happier than I ever will," He said finally.  
  
Paris laid her head on his shoulder and shut her eyes. "I still love you Charlie. I'll always love you."  
  
Charlie responded by pointing to the sky and making up names for the star constellations, just like he used to do when he and Paris used to sneak out of Hogwarts all those years ago. 


	14. Meet the Parents

Boxing Day morning was a very rushed affair. Marino was going home for the remainder of the holiday, something she was not relishing and she couldn't find most of her belongings. Paris and Oliver were going back to Oliver's for the day then Paris would return to the Burrow. The Weasley's were visiting relatives but Fred had insisted Angelina come over today and was currently trying to talk Mrs. Weasley in allowing him and Angelina to stay alone in the Burrow. "Are you ready?" Oliver asked Paris gingerly. He really was not looking forward to going home.  
  
"Yeah, are you?" Paris asked, smoothing her pony tail.  
  
"No but we have to go. If any of my brothers say anything, offer to walk you anywhere, try to give you something, do not take their offers," Oliver warned.  
  
"Oh come on, they can't be that bad," Paris scoffed.  
  
"I mean it," Oliver said. He shut his eyes as if praying for help, his brothers just loved to embarrass him in any way possible and they had plenty of ammunition.  
  
The pair said good bye and Oliver thanked Mr. and Mrs. Weasley for letting him stay.  
  
"Come on then, no time like the present," Oliver said, picking up his trunk. Paris took his hand, she was fairly nervous but clearly not as much as Oliver.  
  
The pair Apparated and before Paris knew it, her feet had landed on hard earth. She opened her eyes and looked around. They had Apparated right outside Oliver's house, and what a house!  
  
It was a large brick house, with an ample front garden all covered with perfect sparkling snow, and fenced off with a neat little white picket.  
  
"It's fake," Oliver said quickly, motioning to the snow and dragging Paris up the path toward his house. "Not that we need fake snow up here."  
  
"It's very nice," Paris assured, looking at the large glass windows. She could see a large, over-decorated Christmas tree through one of them.  
  
Oliver unlocked the front door with his wand and stepped through. Inside the house was magnificent, everything gleamed and there were so many shiny things to occupy Paris for the rest of the day. She caught herself in the gold gilded mirror that was hanging in the hall and quickly sorted herself out. She really needed a hat when she Apparated as it didn't do wonders for one's hair.  
  
"Mum?" Oliver called reluctantly. Paris heard some movement and suddenly felt really sick. She glanced about nervously, wondering where the hell the bathroom would be. Paris decided there wasn't one likely to be in the hall so she concentrated on taking deep breaths.  
  
"Here they bloody come," Oliver muttered as Paris heard what sounded like a heard of Hippogriffs thundering down the grand staircase near her.  
  
The next bit was a blur of bodies and shouting. Paris guessed it was Oliver's brothers as all four of them looked similar.  
  
"Paris, meet Robert, Daniel and Devon," Oliver said dully. Paris smiled but could feel her shyness over coming her.  
  
"So this is Paris, Oli you didn't tell us she was so, lovely," Daniel, Oliver's second eldest brother said.  
  
"Um, thank you," Paris replied, feeling her cheeks go red. She still felt really sick.  
  
"Where's Mum?" Oliver said shortly.  
  
"Now, now Oli, no need to rush. We want to hear more about you friend," Devon smiled, slipping his arm around Paris' shoulder and leading her off into a huge room Paris took as the living room.  
  
"You're a Seeker, I hear? So was I. Shame little Oli can't win the Cup, really. I should think you'd like to see your name on the trophy, no?" Devon was saying, Paris was nodding and trying to see where Oliver had got off to.  
  
"By the way, Oli. This came for you yesterday," Robert said producing a large, sparkly red love heart that was tinkling a little tune from the little girls who were hounding him at Halloween. Oliver was busy trying to yank it out of his eldest brother's reach and failing.  
  
It turned out Oliver's parents were in the room Paris had just been led into. She felt her stomach lurch unpleasantly as she tried to smile nicely at her prospective in laws.  
  
Oliver had now joined her finally and Paris was slightly aware at being introduced.  
  
"How do you do?" Paris said, mustering all her strength. Oliver's mother smiled when she heard Paris speak.  
  
"Nice to hear an English voice for once," She said lightly. She was a youngish looking woman with an air of past glamour about her; she had longish dark blonde hair and a kindly face.  
  
"So nice to finally meet the girl Olli's been raving about," Oliver's father said, shaking Paris' hand briskly. It shook most of Paris' body; Oliver's father was quite clearly Beater material.  
  
"Dad," Oliver groaned but his father caught him up in a tight embrace, glad to see his youngest son again.  
  
"I've made some lunch, if you two would like to come through," Mrs. Wood said kindly, putting a hand on Paris' back and leading her through to yet another room in the house. "How are you feeling, my dear?" Mrs. Wood asked, concerned when she saw Paris turn a nasty shade of green.  
  
"Could you point me to the bathroom please?" Paris managed to say before clamping a hand over her mouth and saying no more.  
  
"I can't believe I threw up in your parent's house! Whatever must they think of me?" Paris wailed to Oliver. They were shut in the downstairs bathroom and Paris had just got her first bout of morning sickness.  
  
"It doesn't matter. Its part of the baby thing," Oliver reassured, rubbing her arm lovingly.  
  
"I hope your Mum doesn't think it's because I smelt her cooking. I did feel sick before hand but smelling it just about finished me off," Paris explained, hoping Mrs. Wood understood.  
  
"Don't worry. I'll take you upstairs where you can lay down for a bit, yeah?" Oliver offered and Paris accepted.  
  
Oliver's bedroom was typical him. Paris just had to roll her eyes when she saw it, all covered in posters and various certificates. She even spotted a small broomstick laid lovingly on its own shelf, most probably Oliver's first.  
  
"Here, lay down. Do you want a drink of water or something?" Oliver offered but Paris was busy smirking at something. Oliver followed her gaze and swore out of shock. Paris had spotted the framed photograph he kept of her on his desk.  
  
"I Owled Molly in advance to ask her to put away my picture of you," Paris said slyly, lying down.  
  
"Bugger," Was all Oliver could say.  
  
"You could've got a better photo Oliver, I look quite horrible. And how old is that exactly?" Paris said, squinting and trying to see when it was taken. She only looked about sixteen.  
  
"You have to make do when you're trying to take a secret picture of someone," Oliver said matter of factly. "It was the summer of sixth year so you were seventeen and that's the most beautiful I had ever seen you."  
  
Paris looked at herself; she was outside by the looks of it and sitting up. It looked as if she was reading something and Paris watched as her photographic self tucked her hair behind her ear and bit her lip thoughtfully again and again.  
  
"We have all the time in the world to pose for photographs," Paris sighed and wrapped her arms around Oliver's neck and gave him a long kiss.  
  
"So have you thought about your future?" Mrs. Wood asked. It was later in the afternoon and it was talk time.  
  
"We have a house, we think. It belongs to Paris' family," Oliver explained.  
  
"And where's that?" Mr. Wood asked Paris.  
  
"It's in Ottery St. Catchpole, it's a small village. There's a family there who I'm very close to and they live near-by," Paris replied.  
  
"And what of your family?" Mrs. Wood asked. Paris gulped and she felt Oliver give her hand a squeeze.  
  
"I'm a Muggle-born witch. My parents weren't too happy with the revelation and I haven't spoken to them since," Paris said simply. Mr. and Mrs. Wood were quiet for a little while; Mrs. Wood sipped now and then from a glass filled with brandy while everyone thought everything through.  
  
"You seem a very nice young lady and we only want the best for our son. This will be a difficult time for all of us but I want you both to know you will have both mine and Lorraine's full support," Mr. Wood said after the silence.  
  
"Thanks Dad," Oliver said bashfully.  
  
"Have you thought of any names?" Mrs. Wood asked turning the conversation onto a lighter note.  
  
"Not really," Paris replied. "There's a few I like but the right name will come eventually."  
  
"Who's filling in for Paris on the team then Oli?" Mr. Wood asked. Oliver's mouth dropped slightly.  
  
"Um, I haven't found anyone just yet," He mumbled.  
  
"Well she can't play anymore, not in her condition. I hope you're making her as comfortable as possible Oliver," His father reminded him.  
  
"I know," Oliver muttered, thinking over all the Gryffindor's. There wasn't anyone who came to mind who would be good enough for the Gryffindor team.  
  
Paris and Oliver spent the remainder of the afternoon chatting and laughing the time away. Oliver's parents were very nice people, if a little hostile at first. It was understandable, Paris wouldn't want to let Oliver go and leave her either.  
  
Paris spent the rest of the holidays at The Burrow with Fred, George and Percy. She'd arranged for Oliver and Marino to meet them back at The Burrow so they could travel by Knight Bus back to school together.  
  
"Complete cows. You should've seen the mountain of crap they had. I had to endure every relative I have coming over and saying how lovely they were and how adorable and all they said to me I was looking a bit peaky. Peaky!" Marino was raging to Paris while they were waiting for The Knight Bus.  
  
"I threw up in Oliver's house as soon as I walked in the door," Paris said mildly and this cheered Marino up immensely.  
  
"I can't wait to Apparate, six Galleons altogether this damn Bus has me. I could be spending that in Zonko's!" Fred was complaining when a thought entered his head. "Hey Paris, you remember Stan Shunpike, don't you? He likes you, see if you can get us on for free!"  
  
"No!" Paris replied, embarrassed at the thought. "He does not like me."  
  
"He does! Come on, I don't want to pay another three Galleons for the Bus fare. Go on and I'll treat you to a Chocolate Frog," Fred insisted.  
  
"Last of the big spenders," Marino muttered but quickly smiled sweetly when she caught him looking at her. Just as she grinned, The Knight Bus appeared, shooting everyone's hair and robes backwards.  
  
"Good evening, I am Stan Shunpike your ticket master for this evening," Stan announced, stepping off the violently purple triple Decker bus.  
  
"Hi Stan," Paris said as Fred pushed her forward toward him.  
  
"H-Hi Paris," He replied bashfully, his pimply cheeks turning red. "Are you on your way back to Hogwarts? Did you have a nice Christmas?"  
  
"Yes thank you Stan. How much did you say it was to go to Hogwarts? I've completely forgotten," Paris asked nicely, feeling silly.  
  
"T-Three Galleons but I'm sure I can wave the fare for you," Stan replied dreamily. Paris smiled widely and Stan hurried to pick up her trunk for her.  
  
"Ahem," Fred cleared his throat loudly so Stan would notice the other five people waiting for the Bus too.  
  
"These are my friends," Paris said, leaving the question lingering. "How much for them?"  
  
"No charge," Stan said absently as he was now quite close to Paris.  
  
"Thanks Stan, you really are kind," Paris said and stepped onto the Bus, shooting Fred filthy looks.  
  
She settled herself on a dining room chair in the far corner of the Bus whilst everyone heaved their trunks on. As soon as Percy's left foot left the ground, the Bus took off at an abominable speed sending everyone bar Paris and Stan backwards.  
  
"Merlin!" Marino cried, attempting to get up off the floor, her blonde curls all over her face. The twins seemed to be enjoying themselves immensely while Oliver and Percy were trying to cling onto anything that didn't move.  
  
The group's bus journey soon ended and all were glad for it. Paris thanked Stan and even gave him a kiss on the cheek which made him turn a non human shade of purple.  
  
Marino and Paris were in their room, packing away their things when Artemis burst in, brandishing the Christmas special Daily Prophet.  
  
"What in the name of all things magical is this?" She demanded, waving the paper in Paris' face.  
  
"Hey, steady on!" Marino cried, snatching the paper from Artemis and throwing it on Paris' bed.  
  
"Pregnant? By Oliver Wood? How could you not tell me?" Artemis demanded in her lofty voice.  
  
"I was going to tell you Art, things have been difficult," Paris protested, not wanting to fall out with her dorm mate.  
  
"Not that difficult, if you're shagging about with your Captain! I knew that was the reason you were on the team!" Artemis said rather dramatically.  
  
"Artemis!" Marino exclaimed angrily, stepping between her and Paris. Artemis stepped away from Marino but she still looked angry. At what Paris wasn't so sure about.  
  
"If that's what Paris thinks of her friend then that's fine. I hope you're ready to face a whole school of people full of questions Paris because from whom I've talked to, everyone's pretty interested," Artemis retorted and flounced away to her bed area where she threw open her wardrobe and began putting away all her new Christmas clothes.  
  
"Forget it," Marino reassured but it made Paris feel quite sick. Now the whole school knows. What would they say? 


	15. It's the Wood What Makes it Good

It was the middle of January and the weather was colder, the homework harder and Paris was fatter. Well she felt fatter and horrible most of the time. She was now throwing up at random times throughout the day. In Transfiguration, she successfully turned a chameleon into a bowl which changed colour and promptly threw up in it.  
  
Oliver spent his time running about like a headless chicken and was very stressed as he had to hold Seeker try outs. The best of the whole of Gryffindor Tower was a fifth year named Ava Matthews, a petite blonde girl with a cold personality.  
  
She was a fair Seeker but Oliver wasn't happy and was making the team train every night, something Paris didn't mind missing, although she occasionally ventured out of the warm common room onto the snow ridden pitch to watch her old team practice.  
  
As the baby was to be born in June, Paris wasn't going to play Quidditch again in her school life time, something she had to come to terms with. She'd miss out on the last game of the season too and hopefully if Gryffindor got the Cup this year, she wouldn't be the Seeker who won the game.  
  
One particularly cold and frosty morning, the Care of Magical Creatures class got a big shock. Charlie Weasley was standing grinning next to a large Welsh Green dragon that was tethered to a post and chewing thoughtfully on a cow whilst Hagrid was completely beside himself.  
  
"Charlie?" Paris exclaimed when she saw him. She bounded over to him and he caught her up in a hug. The girls all looked on in amazement and envy, Charlie had been the heart-throb of his school days.  
  
"Hagrid Owled me and asked me to present a dragon," Charlie exclaimed as he shook Oliver's hand.  
  
"How are you?" Paris asked, spying a crisp burn on the side of his face.  
  
"Fine!" Charlie laughed, touching his burn. "Madam Pomfry has already spotted me so don't worry."  
  
Paris and Oliver stepped back from him so Hagrid could start the class. Paris watched Charlie and felt a slight tension between them. He was same old Charlie but not the Charlie still slightly in love with Paris. He'd gotten over her and in about two weeks.  
  
Charlie gave a short talk whilst all the girls looked on, sighing with wanting and the boys were too mesmerized by the dragon to notice their lusty girlfriends.  
  
"Class, I'd like yeh to say a big thank yeh to Charlie for comin' today. Homework fer tonigh' is to meet me back here at half pas' ten; we're going to be looking out fer Mooncalves!" Hagrid said happily and went back to talking with Charlie about William, the Welsh Green.  
  
"Come back tonight? Is he nuts? We'll freeze!" Marino shrieked as they walked back to the castle for lunch.  
  
"I'm sure you can think of some things to do to keep warm," Paris teased.  
  
"Yeah," Marino replied, glancing at Percy. "Put on plenty of warm clothes."  
  
Later that evening Paris was walking about the corridors making sure the students were all safely in their common rooms.  
  
She had to walk around Slytherin area even though she didn't want to. She hadn't seen Marcus since Christmas and it wasn't a bad thing. He'd been absent in Potions two weeks running now.  
  
"If it isn't Head Girly Knightley," Pansy Parkinson sang when she rounded a corner and came face to face with Paris.  
  
"Back to Slytherin Pansy," Paris said lazily, knowing she'd do what she liked.  
  
"Or what?" Pansy asked. She wasn't exactly a small girl but she was shorter than Paris, she put Paris in mind of a hobgoblin when she thought about it.  
  
"Or she'll get her big, nasty boyfriend after you," another voice said, rounding the corner also. Paris knew it! She just bloody knew it!  
  
"I wouldn't mind Wood tackling me from behind," Pansy said slyly. Neither Paris nor Marcus looked impressed at that.  
  
"You wish, like he'd ever look at you," Paris shot back; she was becoming quite the bitch lately.  
  
"Oh come on, he shagged you didn't he? How embarrassing, your exploits all over the Daily Prophet for everyone to see, shame on you," Pansy replied nastily. Paris noticed Pansy had wound her hand into Marcus'.  
  
"Just go away," Paris said and went to past them but Marcus caught her arm and held it tight.  
  
"You stay, Pansy'll go," Marcus said in a low voice. Paris tried to wrench her arm free but he held it tight, painfully tight.  
  
"What? Marcus!" Pansy screeched, looking at him open mouthed.  
  
"I said go, I'll see you later tonight," Marcus said and Pansy stomped off, cursing about him and Paris.  
  
"Now we're alone," Marcus said quietly, letting go of Paris' arm which was hurting considerably now. "We can talk."  
  
"I don't want to talk to you, ever," Paris said and began quick marching in the direction she came but Marcus caught her arm again and swung her round.  
  
"Don't turn your back to me," He said dangerously.  
  
"What are you, royalty now or something? Get off my arm or face detention!" Paris yelled and instead of letting go, Marcus punched Paris with his free hand. She cried out in pain, he'd caught her right on the eye. Without thinking, Paris swung her free fist and caught Marcus in the mouth with an almighty blow. He staggered back and Paris pulled her arm free.  
  
Her eye was throbbing and bleeding freely, she went to walk away again but Marcus threw his weight against her and pinned her to a wall so they were face to face.  
  
"That's some punch you got there," He said, amused. His chin was red from blood from his lip. "But next time we're alone like this, don't expect to get away with just a punch in the face, oh no."  
  
He was just mere inches from Paris and she had never felt so ill in her life. She needed to get away from him and now. There something between the two that Paris was very unsure about but it was bad, really bad.  
  
"We're not going to be alone again, ever," Paris hissed, not bothering to struggle away as Marcus' grip was too firm. She looked into his eyes momentarily and realized they were grey, grey as storm clouds. She just couldn't read him, there was viciousness in his eyes and that was about it. Paris felt he was a very hateful person.  
  
"You're nothing but a jumped up little Mudblood with a little too much up her sleeve for her own good," Marcus replied, stroking Paris' hair from her face gently.  
  
"You know nothing about me," Paris spat and tried to kick him sharply between the legs but failed as Marcus maneuvered himself out of the way and ended with his forearm pushing into Paris neck, trapping her further.  
  
"Yes, you kept saying that but I really do know more than you think. For example, how much better your sister is than you, how much more loved she was than you, how successful she is, how much more beautiful she is than you will ever be. It hurts, doesn't it?" Marcus explained softly but with a cruel, mocking tone in his voice. Tears had begun to sting Paris' eyes at his words, at how hurtful he was being.  
  
"How do you know?" She whimpered, feeling all her childhood demons flooding back to her.  
  
"I'm not to answer that now but all in good time dear Paris. All in good time," Marcus whispered, stroking her face softly. The blood from his lip had now stained the front of his white school shirt and Paris felt the dried blood on the left side of her face crack as she whimpered.  
  
She was absolutely petrified this moment in time. She wasn't usually scared of Marcus; she stood her ground and made sure he was put in his place. But he spoke with such truth that it scared Paris right to her bones. She worried about her baby most of all.  
  
"I hate you. I really do hate you," Paris said passionately.  
  
"The feeling's mutual," Marcus replied and stepped back from her, motioning for her to leave. She said nothing more, just walked away from him in a slight daze. Her throat hurt and her eye but she had no strength to get her wand and fix them.  
  
She knew this feud with Marcus wouldn't end, only get worse. She had no idea what he was capable of.  
  
Paris skipped down the stone steps of the girl's dormitories at quarter past ten later that night. She had planned to meet Oliver in the common room so they could walk over to the forest together.  
  
She pulled her woolen hat lower and positioned her hair so it covered the black eye that was forming. She had tidied up the cut but bruises were much trickier and she didn't want to go to Madam Pomfry about it, it might finish the old bird off.  
  
"Ready?" Oliver asked cheerfully as Paris went to meet him. He went to kiss her but she turned away, hiding her eye.  
  
"I feel a bit sick, I don't want to throw up over you or anything," Paris lied as Oliver looked hurt. She took his hand and led him out of the common room.  
  
"Are you alright?" Oliver asked uncertainly as Paris insisted on keeping her head down.  
  
"I'm fine, fine! How was practice tonight?" Paris replied, changing the subject tactfully. She knew he wouldn't be able to resist a Quidditch conversation.  
  
"Not too bad. Ava needs serious tweaking; I really wish you were playing. It's weird having someone else as Seeker," Oliver replied wearily. Ava was proving more difficult than Oliver expected.  
  
"I'm sure she'll be fine," Paris said, relaxing slightly as they had just stepped outside and it was very dark. They walked the rest of the way in silence until they met up with their teacher.  
  
"Take yeh sketch books an' try and be as quiet as possible. Good luck!" Hagrid said, beaming at them as he passed Paris and Oliver their sketch books.  
  
The pair made there way into the forest. Mooncalves only came out on a full moon to do a little dance and collect food stores. They were brilliant white and a slightly larger than a normal sized dog.  
  
"Shall we stop here then?" Paris asked when she found a decent sized clearing. They stopped and set their backpacks down. Paris stuck her lit wand in the ground as a make shift torch while they set themselves up.  
  
When they had got their pencils out and were lying comfortably on their stomachs, they found they weren't exactly sure what to talk about.  
  
"Our first kiss was in the forest, remember?" Paris said, smiling fondly.  
  
"Yeah," Oliver replied. "Yeah it was."  
  
"Funny how things can change so quickly," Paris said, pulling up a clump of moss and pulling it apart. She wasn't too conscious about her eye as it was very dark but her mind was stuck on Marcus Flint. She knew she should tell Oliver but she really couldn't face it. He'd do his nut.  
  
"Everything changed for the better though, don't you think?" Oliver asked, looking at Paris.  
  
"Yeah, of course," Paris said, wondering if she really meant it. Oliver smiled and kissed her softly and quite suddenly.  
  
Paris realized they didn't have a particularly romantic relationship, their one and only time together was at Halloween. It seemed there wasn't time or need for it but by judging by Oliver's kiss, he thought different.  
  
"How many layers of clothes do you actually have on?" He grumbled after unsuccessfully searching for skin.  
  
"I thought it'd be chilly," Paris replied honestly.  
  
"Merlin," Oliver sighed rolling his eyes. He reached for his wand and muttered 'Nox'. They were plunged into complete darkness whilst Oliver conjured a heat spell around them and he threw in a silencing spell for good measure.  
  
Tiredness mixed with happiness washed over Paris the next morning at breakfast.  
  
She grinned as she sat down at the Gryffindor table and helped herself to a large breakfast. Fred was looking at her as if she'd just morphed into a Flobberworm but didn't say anything.  
  
"Good morning Rissa," Oliver said cheerfully, as he sat down next to Paris and gave her a kiss on the cheek. He almost fell off his seat when he Paris' eye.  
  
"What is that?" He thundered, making several people turn and stare. Paris was confused momentarily but soon realized what he'd seen. She'd completely forgotten about her incident with Marcus.  
  
"It's, it's nothing," She stammered, dropping her head so her hair hid her eye and her red face from view.  
  
"That is not nothing! Who hit you? Who hit you?" Oliver demanded, wrenching Paris' wrist so she spun and faced him.  
  
"Um," Paris said, stalling for time. She didn't want a big scene made out this, people were already whispering about her enough without this.  
  
"Paris! Who are you defending? Who hit you? Tell me!" Oliver was shouting all these questions at her, each word louder than the last.  
  
"Wood!" Professor McGonagall thundered, striding toward the pair after excusing herself from the teachers table. "What in Merlin's name are you disrupting breakfast over?"  
  
"This!" Oliver shouted back, turning Paris to her teacher and pulling her hair from her face for her.  
  
"Paris?" Professor McGonagall questioned, waiting for an answer.  
  
"I, it was an accident I'm sure, I think I must've rolled onto something in my sleep, perhaps..." Paris mumbled but no-one believed it. As if things couldn't get any worse, Marcus Flint strutted up between Gryffindor and Slytherin tables, smirking like an idiot. His fat lip was unmissable.  
  
"You!" Oliver roared and he flung himself at Marcus. Marcus was obviously quite prepared for attack as he retaliated almost immediately.  
  
Paris put her face in her hands, a riot at breakfast time between her boyfriend and worst enemy was not something she particularly had hoped for, especially as now Professor Snape and Lupin were wrenching the fighting pair apart and no-one looking merciful. 


	16. London's Calling

"I simply cannot believe you are in here again, having me say the exact same things I did last time!" Professor McGonagall raged. "Fighting at breakfast in front of the whole school is not the way to solve your problems!" Paris and Oliver were sat in Professor McGonagall's office sullen faced, knowing full well Marcus wasn't getting told off by anyone.  
  
"Thank Merlin you're all going for two weeks! Maybe then we can have some peace," McGonagall continued.  
  
"But Miss! Look at her! Look what he did," Oliver protested.  
  
"Silence!" McGonagall snapped back at him. "Muggle fighting is unacceptable, I have told you this too many times. Paris should've come to me and reported it. I know you have trouble with Flint but his fate is out of my hands, he will be severely punished however. The same rules apply to him also."  
  
"But Snape won't do anything!" Paris cried angrily, which was true.  
  
"Flint isn't with Professor Snape. He is with Professor Dumbledore," McGonagall said, emphasizing the Professor in front of Snape. She took off her glasses and laid them on her desk.  
  
"I believe he will be expelled from Hogwarts and if Master Wood doesn't control his temper, he will follow suit. I know why you did it Wood so don't look at me like that but thanks to the Daily Prophet, you are now mini celebrities shall we say. If they get wind of anything like this, you can kiss your privacy good bye," McGonagall explained.  
  
Paris and Oliver were quiet. What would Paris do if Oliver were expelled? And Marcus is going for good?  
  
"Go to Madam Pomfry and she'll clear your bruise up and remember what I said. One more toe out of line and that's it," Professor McGonagall said finally.

The seventh years had all arranged a two week work experience program, to go into a field of work they were hoping to go into when they left Hogwarts.  
  
Oliver had a two week professional Quidditch training trials as his work experience and both Marino and Percy were going to the Ministry of Magic as theirs. Paris was staying at school as she was interested in teaching and it would be better for everyone if she stayed where people could keep an eye on her.  
  
As Oliver was going away, he was going slightly mental about Quidditch practice. Ava wasn't very well so Paris was taking her place as Oliver went through strategies with the team.  
  
"So what we'll do is when Ravenclaw follow the feints, Angelina will take the Quaffle and keep it moving between all three Chasers, that way it's harder to catch...yes, Paris?" Oliver said, noticing Paris had her hand up.  
  
While they played Quidditch, Paris and Oliver pretended they were nothing but team mates.  
  
"I know Cedric has a similar formation to yours, so Ravenclaw will be ready for it because the next game is between them and Hufflepuff," Paris explained.  
  
"I'm sorry, what?" Oliver replied, rather angrily.  
  
"I was talking to Cedric and we were chatting about Quidditch and he mentioned a similar formation," Paris explained slowly.  
  
"You were telling Diggory my formations?" Oliver asked, walking closer to where Paris was. She didn't look scared, just slightly confused.  
  
"No of course not, some of your formations are so complex I can't even understand them myself let alone pass them on," Paris replied honestly, which was true.  
  
"So when exactly are these cosy little chatting sessions going on, eh?" Oliver demanded, now quite angry. Paris furrowed her brow.  
  
"What cosy little chatting sessions?" She answered back, now quite angry herself.  
  
"Let me guess, when we're stuck out here practicing? When I'm out of the way?" Oliver shouted. Paris looked furious as the rest of team gathered together and gave each other glances.  
  
"He is my partner in Herbology, we do talk y'know!" Paris replied.  
  
"Oh I see," Oliver said nastily. "That's why he wants to partner you all the time! Can't you see he's just trying to steal my formations that I've worked so hard on? It's the only reason he likes you, Paris!"  
  
Everyone bar Oliver opened their mouths in shock at his words.  
  
"I have known Cedric longer than I've known you so don't you dare tell me that," Paris shouted back.  
  
"I don't care Paris, you don't have to Captain this team. I've put my all into this but I guess you wouldn't understand that," Oliver said airily.  
  
"All you've done for this team is made us lose! You would've even been Captain if it weren't for me anyway! Charlie offered it to me first but I said no, to give it to you!" Paris shouted. Her words echoed around the stadium as the team gasped. Oliver looked hurt but he quickly recovered.  
  
"Then fine," He said, ripping his Captains' badge off his robes. "You think you would've been better, you Captain the team." He pulled Paris' hand open and pushed the badge hard into her palm.  
  
Paris looked at the badge, she had never wanted to be Captain anyway but the bottom line was Charlie had offered it to her first, he thought her good enough.  
  
"Shove it up your arse, Oliver," Paris spat and threw his badge back at him. It hit him in the chest and fell to the ground. Just as she said those words, it began to rain. Paris pushed past him and ran toward the castle. He didn't bother stopping her.  
  
"You're letting her go?" Angelina asked in disbelief, watching Paris run up the stone steps of Hogwarts and disappear out of sight.  
  
"Practice is over," Oliver said moodily and began walking toward the changing rooms.  
  
The remaining five were left on the pitch, wondering what on earth had just happened."I can't believe he would say something so horrible!" Paris wailed into Fred's neck. "He is just being so stupid recently, I don't know why!"  
  
As Marino and Paris' other room mates had gone away already for work experience, Fred was left to console Paris over this evening in the girl's dorm.  
  
"You know him, he's just being himself. He can't help it," Fred said awkwardly, unsure whether to defend Paris or Oliver. He wasn't very good at being a girl, thankfully.  
  
"Oh bugger him!" Paris cried, punching her pillow but still clinging onto Fred. "If he's going to be a prat then let him!"  
  
"You don't mean that," Fred said lightly. "It's a tiff, you'll be alright tomorrow."  
  
"He's going away tomorrow and I don't care, I'm glad he's going," Paris said sulkily. "I'm not speaking to him until he apologizes."  
  
"That might take a while," Fred sighed. Paris began a fresh tide of tears and pulled Fred down so they were both lying on her bed. Paris put her head on Fred's chest and cried into his already wet Quidditch uniform whilst he wondered what he had done to deserve this.  
  
"Why is he being so difficult, huh?" Paris sobbed. "He's just jealous of Cedric but isn't it pretty clear I'm not interested in him?"  
  
"Merlin Paris, I don't know! I'm not good at this junk; you need to talk to Marino or Angelina. Please shut up before I Avada Kedavra myself or something," Fred said impatiently.  
  
"Don't joke about that, I don't know what I'd do if I lost you," Paris said, sniffing.  
  
"I'm not going anywhere. Why don't you go in the shower while I look for Marino's diary?" Fred said, sitting up and looking around.  
  
"Don't you dare," Paris warned, wiping her eyes and also sitting up.  
  
"I'll look for yours then," Fred replied, beginning to look under Paris' bed.  
  
"Marino's is in her wardrobe I think," Paris said quickly, knowing full well Marino took her diary everywhere with her. Fred hopped off the bed and threw open Marino's wardrobe to find there was nothing in it.  
  
"Hey!" Fred shouted but Paris had disappeared into the bathroom.Oliver was steadily smashing up the Captain's office, something he was good at. He had kicked over his waste paper bin and broken his desk amongst other things.  
  
Why was Paris being so difficult? Didn't she care that he had two weeks of trials that would make or break his future?  
  
Oliver was just about to start smashing his broom when he heard a gentle knock on his door.  
  
"What?" He barked, throwing himself into his chair. It was Ava.  
  
"Bad time?" She asked, cocking an eyebrow at the mess.  
  
"Very. What do you want?" Oliver said shortly. Ava came in and shut the door, flicking her blonde hair over her shoulder.  
  
"I just came to see how practice was and what I missed. Obviously not very well by the looks of this," She said, kicking some papers with her foot.  
  
"No, it wasn't good. Aren't you supposed to be ill or something?" Oliver asked briskly.  
  
"I felt better so I came down. Do you show the same concern for all your team mates?" Ava asked, smiling slowly.  
  
"This isn't a very good time Ava," Oliver sighed. He wanted to be alone and wallow in self pity.  
  
"You can talk to me about it, I don't mind," She said softly. Oliver looked at her, properly for the first time and realized he didn't really fancy being alone. He could talk to Ava, why not?  
  
"I fell out with my girlfriend," Oliver sighed again as Ava sat down in the chair Paris always seemed to be in during Oliver's run as Captain. He remembered how they'd both make excuses to talk to each other about something and thinking about it, Oliver never really realized it.  
  
"That Paris girl?" Ava said coldly. "What over?"  
  
"It's a long story; I think we're both a little stressed right now. It was my fault but she knows just how to wind me up!" Oliver said, banging his fist on the desk. "I shouldn't have said what I said though."  
  
"It wasn't your fault if she wound you up. She doesn't seem very nice, she knows what an important two weeks you've got ahead of you. If I were her, I'd be nothing but supportive and doing whatever to take your mind off things," Ava replied slyly.  
  
"No, it wasn't her fault. She's not feeling too great as it is but I made her come out anyway," Oliver said, wondering where exactly Paris was.  
  
"She's been outside before hasn't she? She seemed alright last night when she was walking by the Greenhouses with Cedric Diggory," Ava replied innocently.  
  
"Pardon?" Oliver said, thinking he'd miss heard her. Walking? At night with Cedric?  
  
"I saw them after practice last night; her and Diggory were walking by the Greenhouses and then disappeared behind one. Didn't see them again," Ava explained, suppressing a smile.  
  
"That sneaking bloody pretty boy! It's a good job he went this morning," Oliver began raging, getting up and kicking a filing cabinet.  
  
"It was your girlfriend though; shouldn't you be mad at her?" Ava reminded him. If Oliver hadn't been crazy with rage, he would've probably noticed something fishy there and then.  
  
"What am I doing wrong exactly? I'm not the best person in the world but then who is? Diggory I suppose! It's just because he's good looking, other than that he's a complete drip," Oliver said, hurt and angry.  
  
"I don't think he's that good looking. You're better looking than him," Ava said quietly, standing up.  
  
"I...huh?" Oliver started but then realized what Ava had said. She came closer to him, her golden blonde hair glinting in the torch light.  
  
"I think you're great looking and if your girlfriend can't see that and wants to go off with Diggory, more fool her," Ava said softly. She had an accent Oliver couldn't place; it was a soft Irish one that she seemed to be losing and replacing with an English one.  
  
"Ava, I don't think I'm comfortable with this. I love Paris very much, we had an argument, we'll sort it out," Oliver explained quickly. He really didn't want to get himself into this position, not at all.  
  
"Even though she's cheating on you?" Ava replied. "You're willing to forgive her for that? Merlin Oliver, you can do better than Paris Knightley!"  
  
"Ava, I think you should leave," Oliver said, stunned. There was too much information shooting around for him to think straight.  
  
"I only want to help you Oliver. I care about you and don't want to see you get hurt," Ava explained softly. She took his hand in hers and Oliver couldn't believe how opposite she was to Paris. For one, she was much shorter. He and Paris were almost the same height, him being a few inches taller but Ava barely came up to his chin.  
  
Oliver said nothing as Ava came yet closer, her big blue eyes locked onto his own deepest brown ones, the same ones that had looked into Paris' too many times to count. He felt different as he looked into Ava's but she was here and where was Paris?"Better?" Fred asked when Paris emerged from the bathroom twenty minutes later, her usually straight hair was curled and stuck to her shoulders and back.  
  
"Much," Paris replied even though she had cried all the time she was in the shower. She clutched her towel around her and went over to sit on her bed where Fred was reading something.  
  
"Merlin, Artemis must be the most boring, self absorbed person ever," Fred sighed, shutting her diary and throwing it onto her bed.  
  
"I could've told you that," Paris said wearily and put her head on Fred's shoulder. "I'm just so sick and tired of everything Fred."  
  
"I know," Fred replied softly, taking her hand in his and squeezing it lovingly.  
  
"I'm glad I've got you Fred, even if you're a complete arse sometimes," Paris murmured sleepily.  
  
"An arse I am," Fred replied as Paris took her head off his shoulder to look at him.  
  
"Please tell me everything's going to work out and I'm not going to loose him," She whispered desperately. Fred looked into his closest friend's eyes and was startled at the sadness they held.  
  
"He's a good boy and I know for a fact he loves you more than anything in the world, he'd give up Quidditch in a heart beat for you and not regret a thing," Fred said as convincingly as possible. Paris burst into a fresh bout of tears as Fred watched Oliver and Ava walk from the Captain's office he had just seen them leave.All the next day Paris had refused to speak to Oliver and spent the time sulking next to Professor Lupin as he taught some second years.  
  
Oliver was leaving that night and Paris still hadn't spoken to him. And she didn't care. What she did care about however was how Ava Matthews, her stand in had suddenly taken great interest in Oliver and even more to the fact that Oliver had walked her to Defence Against the Dark Arts that afternoon. Paris pretended to ignore him as she put extra parchment on the student's desks but couldn't help feeling enormously jealous.  
  
She heard Ava call good bye to him and saw him waiting at the door, perhaps to talk to Paris but she didn't care. He waited a little longer but Paris purposely ignored him by turning her back and chatting to a Ravenclaw girl called Alyssia whom she knew.  
  
When Paris glanced at the door, he had gone.  
  
By the time the lesson was over, Paris felt ready to throttle Ava. Every time Paris walked past, Ava's whispers would get slightly louder, so Paris could hear what she was saying. It was nothing particularly spiteful but it was something about Oliver none the less.  
  
That evening the Quidditch team were saying good bye to Oliver as he had to travel back to London ready for tomorrow morning.  
  
Paris didn't go down to say good bye, instead she watched from her empty dorm room, sitting on the window ledge. She watched Ava give Oliver a hug and then Katie did. Oliver said something to George then looked straight up to where Paris watching then turned away again and got into the carriage that was waiting for him.  
  
Paris was turning the ring Oliver had given her around and around on her finger as big tears rolled slowly down her cheeks. He hadn't even bothered trying to talk to her all day and he'd walked Ava to class. What worried Paris most was what else Oliver had done with Ava."Ava? Can I talk to you for a moment?" Paris said, approaching her in the corridor the next lunchtime. It was raining and miserable so the students were inside for lunchtime break.  
  
Ava stopped laughing with her friends and gave Paris a hard look.  
  
"Sure," She said in a bored voice. "I'll be right back," She added to her friends and followed Paris out of earshot.  
  
"If this is about Oliver then save it because I really don't need a clingy girlfriend on my case," Ava said automatically. Paris was ready to slap the stupid look off her face but she controlled her temper.  
  
"I don't know what you think is going on between you and my boyfriend but let's get this straight, he is my boyfriend and the father of our unborn child so just stop whatever it is you think you have," Paris said in a voice she rarely used, a nasty one.  
  
"Is that why he's Owled me already? Not even been gone a day and already missing me," Ava said bitchily. Paris clenched her teeth inside her mouth as Ava pulled out a letter from her bag. "See?" She said, showing her the address so Paris could see it was Oliver's hand writing.  
  
Paris wasn't sure who she hated more, Ava or Oliver. "Why don't you get back to Cedric Diggory and stop hassling me over my new boyfriend?" Ava suggested, putting the letter safely back in her bag.  
  
Paris responded by slapping Ava hard across the face, making her cry out in shock and pain and was about to do again when she felt someone catch her arm. It was Angelina.  
  
"Leave it Paris," She said quickly. "She's not worth it."  
  
"You complete and utter cow! You come near me again and I'll do more than slap that stupid smirk off your face!" Paris shouted as Angelina dragged her away to calm down.  
  
"Paris! What are you doing? This isn't like you at all!" Angelina exclaimed, pushing Paris' hair from her face.  
  
"I don't know, I'm just so angry and upset and Oliver has already written to Ava and not me!" Paris wailed. "I'm tired and I feel so ill."  
  
"Come on, let's go to Madam Pomfry. You're just emotional from this pregnancy thing, my sister cried for a whole month when she was pregnant," Angelina explained, putting her arm around Paris and leading her away toward the hospital.The following fortnight was the worst time imaginable for Paris. She wanted Oliver so she could kick him repeatedly for making her so upset and not caring. She had received three letters from him, asking after her health and how she was getting on with teaching and hoping she was ok and he was sorry about the things he had said. No mention of Ava though.  
  
Paris hadn't replied once and now sat alone in her dormitory in a red dress ready for the Valentine Ball which she did not want to attend but Angelina had talked her into going.  
  
Paris pressed her forehead against the cold glass of the window she was sitting by. Oliver wasn't home yet, even though he was supposed to come back this morning. Marino wasn't coming back until tomorrow but several seventh years had already returned.  
  
"Come on Paris," Angelina said, coming into the dormitory and holding out her hand. Paris got up reluctantly and smoothed her dress.  
  
"You look lovely," Angelina said as Paris took her hand. Paris had never felt so miserable in her whole life, let alone look lovely.  
  
"Thanks, so do you," She replied and the girls made their way to the Great Hall.  
  
When they walked in, the first thing Paris spied was poor Cedric with armfuls of home made Valentine cards and it made Paris smile. Cedric caught her eye and smiled back bashfully, embarrassed at all the attention.  
  
They sat down next to Percy and the twins and Katie and Alicia, who were all smiling bravely and Paris tried to have a nice time and ate a lot of cakes.  
  
"Hello!" Cedric said breathlessly, sitting in an empty seat at Paris' table later that evening. "You haven't danced once," He said, throwing yet more cards on the table.  
  
"I'm not really in the mood," Paris said truthfully.  
  
"Oh come on, come and dance with me. I hate to see all alone," Cedric said cheerfully, hoisting Paris out of her seat before she could decline politely.  
  
Just as they reached the dance floor area, the music changed from lively to slow but Cedric didn't mind, he put Paris' hands on his shoulders and his around her waist.  
  
"Oliver will be home soon, bet you've really missed him," Cedric said conversationally.  
  
"Yeah," Paris said, aware of all the envious looks she was getting from various girls.  
  
"I hope he did alright, he really deserves to go far with all that work he puts in for your team," Cedric continued.  
  
"Yeah," Paris said again, wishing she was in bed asleep instead of getting death stares.  
  
Paris heard some disruption at the entrance doors but ignored it, thinking the twins were responsible with a prank or something.  
  
"You look nice tonight," Cedric said politely and Paris smiled gratefully, thankful he had the heart to ignore the dark circles under her eyes and her ungroomed hair.  
  
"Paris?" said a voice that made Paris practically jump from Cedric's arms. It was Oliver and he wasn't looking very happy.  
  
Paris stepped back from Cedric and thanked him for the dance. She made to leave the dance floor but Oliver caught her arm.  
  
"Aren't you going to speak to me?" He asked, glancing at Cedric who was also leaving the dance floor.  
  
"No," Paris said shortly and pulled her arm free. She made it to entrance doors before Oliver caught her again.  
  
"Hey, whatever's wrong with you?" Oliver said bewildered, ignoring shouts from fellow students asking how he got on with the trials.  
  
"You!" Paris shouted angrily and stormed out of the Great Hall.  
  
"Paris!" Oliver shouted after her, following after her. He caught her yet again and as he tried to turn her toward him, she punched him in the face. Not hard like she punched Marcus but hard enough for her to get away and attempt to run up toward Gryffindor Tower.  
  
"What the hell is wrong with you?" Oliver thundered as he caught Paris around the waist again and pulled her down so she fell onto the stone steps. He held her still as she cried furiously into her hands.  
  
"You just come waltzing in here like nothing happened! I know about you and Ava!" Paris shouted at him through her tears.  
  
"What about me and Ava?" Oliver demanded.  
  
"You walked her to class and Owled her before you Owled me!" Paris cried, hitting him in the chest through her anger.  
  
"One, stop hitting me, two, shut up and listen to me," Oliver said, gripping Paris' shoulder's and making her look at him. "I did not walk Ava to class, I was coming there to hopefully catch you and apologize and she caught me up. I Owled her to set things straight between us before it got out of hand."  
  
"What?" Paris shrieked, struggling against Oliver but he held her firmly.  
  
"The night we had our argument, I was in the office and she came in. She seemed to think there was something between us and couldn't get it around her head that there was nothing, she tried to kiss me but I said no. I Owled her saying I'm not interested and that I'm only interested in two people in the whole world," Oliver explained. "One of whom has now given me a black eye."  
  
"Who's the other," Paris said, not entirely convinced.  
  
"Who'd you think?" Oliver replied, putting his hand on Paris' stomach gently.  
  
"Oh," Paris said quietly, everything now fitting into place. She felt slightly sheepish at her behaviour.  
  
"Ava told me she saw you Cedric the night before we had the argument, walking with him while we were having Quidditch practice," Oliver said.  
  
"I was not! That lying cow!" Paris cried angrily. "Wait till I see her!"  
  
"I heard you've already tried to slap her into next week," Oliver said, disapprovingly but with a hint of amusement in his voice.  
  
"She deserved it," Paris said quietly, looking up at Oliver with big, tired eyes.  
  
"Oh come here," Oliver sighed, taking her in his arms where Paris began crying yet again but mostly from relief.  
  
"I missed you so much Oliver and that bitch was making it so difficult and all I had was Fred!" Paris sobbed into Oliver's chest.  
  
"I missed you too but I don't ever have to leave you again so it's ok," Oliver said, stroking Paris' hair into some kind of style.  
  
"But the trials, what about the training program?" Paris asked, facing Oliver.  
  
"Forget them. I shouldn't have even bothered, there were Keepers there I can only dream about matching," Oliver sighed. He didn't mention he was extremely put off the games because he was too busy worrying about Paris.  
  
"Oh, I'm so sorry," Paris cried, throwing her arms around his neck and giving him a hug.  
  
"Forget it," Oliver replied. "I'm sorry for what I said, I was stressed and I shouldn't have taken it out on you. It won't happen again."  
  
"I'm sorry too. You're a brilliant Captain," Paris murmured sleepily. "And I'm sorry for punching you, it won't happen again either."  
  
Oliver smiled to himself, at the fact that his girlfriend had a stronger punch than any boys he knew 


	17. See it in A Boy's Eyes

The Easter holidays were upon Hogwarts and Paris and Oliver had decided to return to Ottery St Catchpole so they could sort out Paris' old house ready for the summer.  
  
Paris was at the kitchen table working on her Care of Magical Creatures portfolio which was very much incomplete mainly due to Oliver; while Oliver himself was watching a paintbrush he had just charmed paint the kitchen walls with a lemon colour.  
  
"Does this Knarl look right to you?" Paris asked, turning her portfolio around for Oliver to see.  
  
"That is a masterpiece compared to mine. I think the nose is a bit longer," Oliver replied and Paris took it back and began detailing it.  
  
"Do you know Percy is already revising for his NEWT's?" Paris said, not taking her eyes from her work.  
  
"Is he? Merlin, I think I better start then," Oliver replied, feeling the familiar wave of nausea he got every time he thought about exams. "I was counting on the Quidditch; they don't care if you get one NEWT or twenty."  
  
"You still might get in Oliver but it won't hurt to try your best in the NEWT's anyway whether you're guaranteed a place with the academy or not," Paris said, still not looking up from her work.  
  
"It's alright for you to say, you always get O's," Oliver grumbled, getting up and taking the paintbrush out of the air and doing it manually.  
  
"Not true, I once got an E," Paris said, finishing her work and closing her folder.  
  
"Oh no, whatever did you do?" Oliver said sarcastically.  
  
"Oh shut up. Do you want some lunch?" Paris asked, getting up slowly. She was almost five and a half months pregnant and was definitely feeling it.  
  
"Hey, sit down. I'll get you lunch," Oliver said quickly, rushing to help her sit back down.  
  
"It's fine Oliver. You haven't let me do a thing all week except watch you paint and paper," Paris replied, moving out of his way. "I think I should go to the shops or something, we don't actually have any food," She sighed, after looking in the cupboard.  
  
"Did I hear the word food?" Fred asked, coming straight into the kitchen with George following behind.  
  
"No," Paris said shortly. "Not unless you want to go the shops and get something for lunch."  
  
"Ah, I can do better than that," Fred replied, reaching for his wand as George settled himself at the kitchen table. The twins were now seventeen and legally allowed to do magic outside school.  
  
"Accio bread!" Fred said clearly and waited a few moments before a loaf of bread came zooming happily into his out stretched hand. "Accio, do you want chicken or ham?" Fred said, turning to Paris.  
  
"It's stealing Fred!" Paris hissed incase someone heard her. "Give us ham," She sighed quietly.  
  
"Accio ham and salad," Fred continued and put his wand away and caught the ham and bag of salad lazily. "You do know I'm going to have to go into that shop and pay extra on whatever I buy?" Paris said in a tone which reminded the boys very much of Mrs. Weasley.  
  
"Here, eat it and shut up," Fred said, pushing a crude sandwich into Paris' hands. She took it and the rest of her drink she already had from this morning and went outside in the warm sun.  
  
Paris looked around the front garden which she had watched Fred and George do earlier in the week and almost choked on the piece of lettuce she was munching.  
  
"Jesus Christ! It's you!" Paris' older sister Arrietty cried, pointing at her dramatically.  
  
"Arri?" Paris said in disbelief, staring at her older sister.  
  
"You still live here? I thought you'd be too ashamed to step foot in my parents house again after what they told you," Arrietty said nastily. Paris felt all the old feelings flood back to her. Arrietty still had the knack of making Paris feel about two inches tall.  
  
"What are you doing here?" Paris said, finding her voice, be it a not very confident one.  
  
"Well I came back to see if this would be suitable for a summer house. You know, it's so stressful having a high powered job in the city. I thought a little house in the country would be quite quaint," Arrietty said, looking around.  
  
Paris looked very much like her older sister; they were easily identified as sisters and as Arrietty enjoyed pointing out, she was much prettier than Paris. Both sisters had the same long, shiny brown hair but Arrietty had brown eyes whereas Paris had green eyes.  
  
Today Arrietty was dressed in what Paris guessed to be very fashionable clothes with her hair tied up in a pony tail and big dark sunglasses as if she were a celebrity hiding from the press.  
  
"Arrietty?" Fred said his voice a mixture of glee and surprise. He came out of the house and stood next to Paris, looking at the elder Knightley sister.  
  
"You," Arrietty said nastily, stepping back slightly. If possible, Arrietty hated the twins more than Paris.  
  
"Yeah, me. What brings you to our neck of the woods then Spaghetti?" Fred said, getting over his shock quickly.  
  
"Do not call me that, you freakish little moron," Arrietty said spitefully.  
  
"Sorry Spaghetti, old habit, It suits you anyway. I hear you're married now? Arrietty Spaghetti Knightley-Morrietty...it has quite a nice ring to it," Fred said, taking a bite of sandwich as Arrietty scowled horribly at him.  
  
"What a nice couple you make, two half witted idiots together soon to have another little red headed freak. I'm telling you now Paris, I'm not jealous one little bit surprisingly. I thought you told me you were to have a better life than I could ever dream of?" Arrietty said, flicking her fringe from her eyes.  
  
"Fred isn't the father, I am," Oliver said also joining Paris and Fred. George also appeared and came and stood next to Fred, grinning wickedly.  
  
"Well, well, well, isn't this a turn up for the books?" Arrietty said slyly, smiling at Oliver.  
  
"Oliver, meet Arrietty. My sister," Paris said dully, motioning Arrietty.  
  
"What is she doing here?" Oliver asked, glaring at Arrietty. He couldn't deny she was very pretty but he also knew of her poisonous personality and therefore disliked her immediately.  
  
"Just leaving actually which is a shame now you're here," Arrietty said, still smiling.  
  
"Darling? Have you found it yet? Is it suitable?" an unknown voice called. Everyone bar Arrietty turned to see who was walking up the garden path. A male figure came into view carrying a baby in a car seat.  
  
"No Martin, we're leaving," Arrietty snapped and joined her husband.  
  
"Who are these people?" Martin asked, eyeing the party suspiciously. Paris saw him in full view and as soon as her eyes met his, her breath escaped her body. He was tall with dark hair and something about him struck Paris but she wasn't sure what it was. He seemed familiar but from where Paris didn't know.  
  
"My sister and her little friends. Let's go," Arrietty said firmly, taking a hold of Martin's arm.  
  
"You never told me you had a sister," Martin argued, setting the sleeping baby down on the ground in the car seat. Paris broke the gaze between the two and although it was a reasonably warm day, her arms were covered with goose bumps.  
  
"I don't. She has been disowned by my family," Arrietty said nastily, smiling at Paris.  
  
The baby began crying but Arrietty ignored it. Paris looked from her cruel sister to the baby who could only be not even a year old yet.  
  
Paris realized the baby was her nephew, Paris was an auntie to the little boy who was crying and being ignored and she wanted to go and pick him up and soothe him.  
  
"Jared's crying Arrietty," Paris said, interrupting the rapid conversation between her and Martin.  
  
"And?" Arrietty snapped. "I'm leaving, see you Paris. Have a nice life, stay out of mine."  
  
Arrietty stalked off leaving Martin. He picked up Jared and with one last look at Paris, he followed after Arrietty.  
  
Paris couldn't speak. What had just happened here? Why on earth had Arrietty wanted to come back to Ottery St Catchpole? And what was up with her husband, Martin?  
  
"I could curse her," George offered, twirling his wand hopefully.  
  
"No," Paris said absently, still staring after them even though they were out of sight. "Come on, let's finish lunch."  
  
"Oliver! Oliver! Where is he? OLIVER!" Katie screamed, bursting through the Quidditch changing room doors. A very startled Oliver rushed from the Captain's office, slipped on a sock and landed with a hard thud on the floor.  
  
Before he could get up, Katie had swooped down on the floor and was holding his shoulders, trying to catch her breath.  
  
"What is it?" Oliver asked, all sorts going through his head.  
  
"It's Ravenclaw! Cho isn't playing! Hurt her knee! Just seen Alyssia in the changing rooms!" Katie panted as fast as she could.  
  
"Alyssia? As in Alyssia Ford? Oh please Katie, tell me she's not playing!" Oliver said desperately, grabbing Katie's upper arms and pushing them both up so they were standing.  
  
"I've just seen Roger, wished him good luck y'know. Anyway, Cho has hurt her knee again so Alyssia is filling in for her! Oliver, we don't stand a chance!" Katie said breathlessly.  
  
What followed was a bout of swear words from Oliver and then more when he explained to the team. Alyssia Ford was Paris' fifth year Ravenclaw friend and was the best Seeker in the school. She was a petite girl with long auburn hair and a nice smile. Luckily, Alyssia didn't particularly enjoy Quidditch and had no intentions of playing full time but when Cho was unable to play, Alyssia filled in as a favour to Roger.  
  
"Merlin. Merlin...maybe...no, that won't work. Merlin help me, Merlin...maybe? No, not that either," Oliver was mumbling and pacing as the team all gave each other dubious looks. This match decided who would play Slytherin in the final for the Quidditch Cup, Slytherin had unsurprisingly defeated Hufflepuff a few weeks ago after almost killing most of the team.  
  
"I wish Paris was playing!" Oliver said suddenly, pounding his fist into his hand. Paris had previously played Alyssia and gave her a run for her money but Ravenclaw emerged champions.  
  
"I'm sure I'll do fine," Ava said sulkily. She still wasn't entirely over getting a slap off Paris and being rejected by Oliver.  
  
"It's down to you Ava; you make sure you get that Snitch!" Oliver barked. "Chasers, score as many Quaffles as possible and Beaters? Keep Alyssia away from that Snitch!"  
  
"Well we might accidentally hit Ava," George said, pretending to be sorry about it. Ava just sneered at him.  
  
"I mean it! This game is very important! I need that Quidditch Cup this year, I haven't got another chance at it and I want my name on it!" Oliver said his voice cracking.  
  
"We'll do it Oliver!" Alicia shouted happily.  
  
"Aye aye Cap'n!" Fred said, saluting Oliver.  
  
"Merlin help me," Oliver sighed, taking his broom and lining up at the door.  
  
"This is so fun! I feel so nervous! I wish I could play!" Paris said hyperactively. She, Percy and Marino were crushed up the front of the Gryffindor box and the atmosphere was electric.  
  
The whole Gryffindor crowd was a sea of red and gold, some students had painted their faces whilst others were waving posters and flags and ribbons.  
  
Across from them were the Ravenclaw supporters who all looked a stunning sea of sky blue. It was hard to tell who were the loudest, the Gryffindor's or the Ravenclaw's.  
  
"It's mad!" Marino shouted over the crowd. "Are you alright?"  
  
"Yeah I'm fine! Excited!" Paris shouted back. She had never spectated at a Gryffindor deciding match and was glad she only had to do it once, the excitement was too much.  
  
"Welcome, welcome my nearest and dearest to the semi final Quidditch match between Ravenclaw and Gryffindor!" Lee Jordan roared into his purple megaphone. The crowd cheered and the noise was almost unbearable.  
  
"I'm your handsome host Lee Jordan and before we start a few reminders. No sonorous charms, no interfering in the game and no distracting the players by nudity. That can be directed at me," Lee teased, dodging a swipe from Professor McGonagall.  
  
""I wish I was playing! It's electric! I'd be better than Ava anyway...oh, sorry Tris!" Paris was raging but realized Tristan Matthews; Ava's older brother was standing right near her.  
  
"No worries, you're right anyway," Tristan shrugged with a smile.  
  
"If that smug little cow doesn't win this...sorry Tris...I won't be happy!" Paris continued shouting at Marino.  
  
"Its fine," Tristan replied as Lee Jordan's voice boomed through the stadium once again.  
  
"And here comes the teams! Playing for Gryffindor is Captain Oliver Wood, Johnson, Spinnet, Bell, Weasley, Weasley and in for Paris Knightley is Ava Matthews!" Lee paused for the cheers and screams. "Playing for Ravenclaw is Captain Roger Davies, Lopez, Jones, Duvall, Boot, Corner and in for Cho Chang is Alyssia Ford!"  
  
"WHAT?" Paris screamed and realized many other students were saying the same. Alyssia Ford was playing?  
  
"Who?" Marino asked but Paris was now rapidly conversing with Tristan about the outcome and the two were reeling off statistics faster than Marino could listen.  
  
The teams milled out onto the field, waving and smiling. They met Madam Hooch in the middle of the pitch and Oliver and Roger shook hands. Oliver probably got on with Roger the best out of all Captain's but it didn't mean he wouldn't beat him senseless in Quidditch.  
  
Roger stepped forward and gave Katie a kiss on the cheek and the crowd began cat calling. Paris could make out Katie's red face from the height she was.  
  
The teams took to the air and began warming up. Oliver flew over to where Paris was standing.  
  
"Oliver! What's going on? Alyssia's playing?" Paris asked immediately.  
  
"Cho has hurt her knee again; it was a last minute thing apparently. Roger just explained to us," Oliver sighed. Paris thumped the wooden ledge of the stands.  
  
"I'm sure she'll do it Wood," Tristan reassured, meaning Ava. Oliver looked dubious but leant in and gave Paris a kiss. She wrapped her arms around him best she could and held him tight, urging him to believe everything would go ok.  
  
"I love you," Paris said quietly, looking him in the eyes. "You'll win this match, I know it."  
  
Oliver nodded and looked as if he were about to throw up. He nodded to Tristan and flew off toward the three goal hoops and began warming up.  
  
"And what a glorious day it is! About to begin is Ravenclaw versus Gryffindor! Madam Hooch releases the Quaffle and my future wife Angelina Johnson takes it away!" Lee shouted.  
  
Paris watched as Angelina snatched the Quaffle from the air and shot through the three Ravenclaw Chasers straight toward Ben Jones, the Ravenclaw Keeper.  
  
"And its Johnson with the Quaffle, oh she's burning down the pitch, dodges one Bludger but oh! Angelina Johnson is hit by a Bludger from Captain Roger Davies! Lopez intercepts and she's tearing down the pitch, she shoots and she SCORES! Ten nil to Ravenclaw!" Lee shouted glumly as Oliver hurled the Quaffle down the pitch, almost taking Alicia's head of with it.  
  
The groans from the Gryffindor stand echoed all around but the Ravenclaw's were going ballistic.  
  
The game continued for another ten minutes with no sign of the Snitch. Alyssia was keeping above the game, her eyes peeled for any sign of the Golden Snitch. Everyone's eyes were on the two Seekers. Ava's hair was illuminated in the sunlight, making her easy to spot and Paris was urging her to just catch the damned Snitch before Oliver gave himself a stroke or something.  
  
"And it's one hundred and twenty to ninety to Gryffindor and still no sign of the Snitch!" Lee Jordan called. "Rebecca Duvall in possession and oh, nice Bludger from Fred Weasley there! Or was that George Weasley? Who cares!?" Lee shouted and almost swallowed his microphone in excitement. "Is that? It is! It's the Golden Snitch ladies and gentleman! The two Seekers are straight in there and oh, it's neck and neck! How exciting!"  
  
Paris, along with everyone else was hanging over the stands to get a better look as both Seekers dropped down close to the ground after the Snitch.  
  
Alyssia was closer to the Snitch than Ava and just dodged a Bludger from George Weasley as she reached out her hand and touched the Golden Snitch. Just as Alyssia was about to curl her fingers around it, Ava knocked into her and pushed her off course.  
  
Fred aimed another Bludger at Alyssia and it caught the tail end of her broom, sending her hurtling away from the Snitch, leaving Ava a clear shot at it.  
  
Paris held her breath and was reaching out desperately for it. If she was playing she would've had it by now.  
  
"Snatch it you stupid bitch!" Marino shouted madly at Ava just as she closed her fist around the tiny struggling ball.  
  
Paris was light headed from lack of oxygen and the following few moments were a blur. The Gryffindor's all jumped up at once, screaming and shouting like lunatics. Flags were going everywhere as everyone began sobbing and hugging each other, so glad it was over.  
  
"Gryffindor WIN!" Lee screamed hysterically into his microphone but the crowd barely heard it.  
  
The Gryffindor team all landed and began screaming and hugging one another. Ava was in the middle of the crush, getting hugged by everyone.  
  
"You did it!" Oliver shouted hoarsely, grabbing Ava and swinging her around in rapture. He was so unbelievably happy, he forgot about everything. Nothing mattered anymore, they were in the final, closer to the Cup.  
  
Ava was most pleased with herself, even more so because Oliver was cuddling her against him.  
  
"Brilliant game Wood," Roger said, ripping his arm sheaths off and offering his hand to Oliver. "You too mate," Oliver said, grinning and shaking his hand vigorously. He was hot, he was sweaty but damnit, he was happy.  
  
The Gryffindor supporters had spilled out onto the pitch and were all trying to thump Oliver on the back out of respect. It was a haze of shouting and laughing and crying.  
  
"You played well," Ava managed to say to Oliver.  
  
"So did you, brilliant Ava. Thank you so much," Oliver said, grabbing Ava and hugging her tightly. Ava closed her eyes and relished the moment.  
  
Not too far away, Paris was cuddling Angelina and watching Oliver over Angelina's shoulder. She couldn't help feeling envious and regretted more than ever not being able to play Seeker.  
  
Paris watched as Tristan said something and made both Ava and Oliver laugh and the two players fought their way through the crowd and back to the changing room without so much as a backward glance at Paris. 


	18. The Seeker Has a Secret

It was nearing the end of May which meant a few things. Soon, very soon, was the Quidditch final between Gryffindor and Slytherin and a few days after that was the NEWT's.  
  
Paris was sitting in the Great Hall alone eating her lunch and keeping her head down. It was Wednesday and the Quidditch final was on Saturday. The NEWT's were the following week, followed by graduation followed by the end of year party. Somewhere along the lines, Paris was going to have a baby and hoped it would be sooner rather than later.  
  
"Well, who is this? A lost student? It'd be my honour to help you back...ARGH!" Fred almost fell over George when he saw who he was chatting up.  
  
"Fred! Shut up! It's me," Paris hissed frantically, sitting him down next to her.  
  
"What on earth?" Fred said, bewildered.  
  
"I've just had Potions. It's a Changeling Potion alright?" Paris said, pushing her waist length blonde hair over her shoulder. As she was busy worrying over Oliver and everything else, she had been a little too liberal with the ingredients and now resembled Rapunzel.   
  
"It looks weird," George said, grabbing a handful. "But it smells nice!"  
  
"It's heavy, just what I need with this!" Paris complained, motioning to her rather large bump.  
  
"You are getting huge Par, are you sure it's just one?" Fred laughed, helping himself to five or six sandwiches.  
  
"It feels like triplets. Merlin, I hope it's not triplets," Paris said, gulping. As she said it, Oliver and Ava joined the table, they sat next to each other opposite Paris, Fred and George.  
  
"What in the name have you done?" Ava said immediately, clocking Paris' waterfall of blonde hair.  
  
"It's a NEWT's potion," Paris replied sourly. Since Ava had won the last Quidditch match, Oliver had forgotten the hell Ava had put Paris through and become her new best friend.  
  
"I prefer you with dark hair," Oliver said, smiling. He reached across the table to squeeze her hand but Paris quickly grabbed her fork.  
  
"Yeah, blonde doesn't suit everyone," Ava added. Paris knew if she didn't leave now, she'd do something she'd regret.  
  
"I said I'd meet Cedric in the library. See you later," Paris said abruptly, getting up and leaving.  
  
"Paris!?" Oliver called but Paris ignored and hurried to the library, hoping to Merlin Cedric was in there.  
  
"Great practice team! Come on showers and bed," Oliver called later that night. His team was tired out but it would all be worth it.  
  
"I'm counting on you Ava," Oliver said as he followed the rest of the team into the changing rooms.  
  
"I'll do it Oliver. You know I will," Ava replied without a trace of modesty. She followed him into the Captain's office, leaving the shrieks of the Chasers behind her. It was good the twins were occupying them, Ava thought.  
  
"You've shown a lot of talent in the last few months. I couldn't have asked for a better replacement," Oliver said, sitting down and breathing a sigh of relief. "I just have to have the Cup and without Paris I didn't think I'd do it."  
  
"Maybe you should've had me all along? You're a good Captain that deserves better players," Ava said sweetly.  
  
"I had a good team, I have a brilliant team. Just because you won the last game doesn't make you a good player Ava, it's constant stamina and hard work that makes good players," Oliver replied.  
  
"Yeah but Paris never managed to win the last game of the season, did she?" Ava argued, determined to turn the conversation on how crap Paris was.  
  
"And neither have you. We always end up playing Slytherin and they always cheat. If they played fairly, we would've had the Cup every year," Oliver pressed. "Now without Flint, they'll either fail or play harder than ever."  
  
"I won't let the team down Oliver. You did the right thing replacing Paris, don't worry," Ava replied, flicking her hair.  
  
"I only replaced Paris because of her safety, if it wasn't for that, I'd be talking to her right now," Oliver said coldly, remembering why he didn't like Ava.  
  
"Well you're talking to me and Paris is probably off with Diggory. I hear she told you all sorts to get her neck off the line," Ava said bitterly.  
  
"That's enough Ava! Stop trying to cause trouble, I've warned you before," Oliver said, standing up.  
  
"Oh come on Oliver! Open your eyes! She's no good for you, a waste of your time. You could have a real woman, a dedicated woman who'd give you everything you could ever dream of! What is the fascination with that cow anyway? She's crap at Quidditch, not exactly good looking and far too happy all the time! How can you stick it?" Ava yelled, also on her feet.  
  
"Get out Ava! That's it! I've had it with you and your bitchiness! I wouldn't give you a second look and you know it so just leave and forget playing Seeker for Gryffindor. I don't want you on my team," Oliver shouted.  
  
"Oh yeah? I'm your only hope! You can't afford to lose me," Ava replied, smiling nastily.  
  
"Do you think I care? Get out! You stay away from me and you stay away from Paris!" Oliver roared. Ava glared at him for a moment.  
  
"Fine. I'll expect an apology when you come crawling back me in a few days though. You can kiss your beloved Cup good bye," Ava spat and left with a swish of her perfect blonde hair.  
  
Oliver threw himself in his seat and banged his fists on the desk in anger and frustration. What had he done? He had no Seeker with the final in a few days.  
  
At the same moment in time, Paris was in the Prefects bathroom looking at her reflection.  
  
Ina moment of wisdom, she had decided to cut her hair. The potion wasn't permanent thankfully but the weight of the thick, blonde hair had gotten the better of Paris and she had hacked it off.  
  
She was angry at Oliver for forgiving Ava and even angrier at Ava's sly little comments so she'd cut her hair.  
  
Paris watched in the mirror as her short hair turned slowly from blonde back to her usual dark brown. It remained short and Paris pulled at it, wondering what on earth she had done to herself. She loved her hair, loved brushing it and styling it and now it barely came to her chin.  
  
It made her look quite elvin and she decided she would just have to get used to it as she didn't fancy attempting a hair growing spell. She remembered how a curse from one of the Slytherin team had made Alicia Spinnet's eyebrows grow out of control and she kept tripping over them on her way to the hospital wing.  
  
"Merlin, it's bloody worse than the blonde mass," Paris sighed to herself, letting her fingers slide off her hair and fall to her side. She turned to the side and as she was in her underwear, gave her stomach an inspection.  
  
"Well, you've completely ruined my figure boy," Paris said fondly, running her hand over her tummy. "I suppose I'll be seeing you soon but please don't grow any more!"  
  
Paris paused as if waiting for a reply. She knew babies could hear sounds inside so he must be listening.  
  
"What's Daddy going to say when he sees my hair I wonder?" Paris continued, reaching up to touch it once again. The ends weren't even where she had cut it and it flicked out at angles.  
  
Paris sighed again and put on her dressing gown. She decided to go and find Oliver.  
  
Oliver had just gotten into his bed, every muscle in his body aching.  
  
His mind was racing with thoughts and fear. Who would he get to play Seeker now? No one in their right mind would play with only a few days training against Slytherin.  
  
He was going to let the team down, going to let his house down. He just wanted his name on the Cup – was that so hard? He wanted to make Paris proud and to show his brothers he could win the Cup. Maybe even his son would see it when he started school and get his own name on it.  
  
Oliver rolled over and pulled the covers up to his chin and felt like crying. He was just so frustrated with everything, himself and mainly Ava.  
  
He heard his dormitory door open and shut quietly, probably Tristan coming back from visiting his Hufflepuff girlfriend or something.  
  
Oliver heard footsteps and someone pull back his bed sheets slightly.  
  
"Dan, we've been through this...PARIS!?" Oliver hissed, startled. He had thought it was...never mind.   
  
"Ssh Oliver, it's me," Paris said quickly, getting into bed with him and pulling the covers over the two.  
  
"What are you doing?" Oliver asked, moving over to make room. "You're in your underwear!"  
  
"Shut up Oliver. I've just seen Fred, says you chucked Ava off the team," Paris replied, looking directly at him.  
  
"I did. She was making trouble and saying all kinds of crap. I had enough," Oliver sighed.  
  
"But the match! It's Saturday Oliver, who are you going to get to play? I mean, Katie could do it but you'd be a Chaser short," Paris whispered frantically.  
  
"I know," Oliver said sadly. Paris looked at him and could see he was very upset. She slipped her arms around him and held him tight.  
  
"You're too fat to cuddle," Oliver teased. It was true; the baby was pushing into Oliver's stomach as Paris tried to hug him. "It's quite nice actually," Oliver said, putting a hand on it.  
  
"He's so heavy Oliver, it's like carrying a bloody watermelon up you school uniform," Paris sighed, pushing a few hairs from her face.  
  
"Where's your hair gone?!" Oliver asked, sitting up and touching what was left of Paris hair.  
  
"I cut it off. Sorry," Paris admitted, as Oliver ran his fingers through it.  
  
"No, I like it," He replied, stroking it flat and laying back down.  
  
"Wait till you see it properly," Paris sighed but Oliver just kissed her slowly before settling himself on her shoulder and drifting off to sleep.  
  
"Thank you so, so much," Paris kept repeating as she held out arm protectors. "Really, thank you. You have no idea just how happy Oliver will be."  
  
It was Saturday morning, the morning of the final Quidditch match. Oliver hadn't been able to find anyone to play Seeker surprisingly and poor Katie had been having a crash course in Seeking skills. It still meant Gryffindor only had two Chasers and really didn't stand a chance against Slytherin so Paris had taken matters into her own hands.   
  
"Its fine, you know I'll do anything for you," the new Seeker replied. "Are you sure Dumbledore said it was ok?"  
  
"It's fine, perfectly legal," Paris replied, grinning. She was just so happy and giddy with excitement. "Come on, let's go."  
  
The pair could hear the roar of the crowd from the safety of the Hufflepuff changing room Paris had begged the keys off Cedric for them to use. Anything to see Slytherin defeated and when they saw Gryffindor's secret weapon, they wouldn't know what had hit them. A part of her wished Marcus Flint was here to see it but she perished the thought at once. The less they saw of him, the better.  
  
Outside, Oliver was looking a nasty shade of green. It was suicide playing with a member short but what else could he do? He'd never forfeit to them.  
  
Andy Warrington, the new Captain was smiling smugly and Pansy was shooting dirty looks at poor Katie who looked worse than Oliver.  
  
"Interesting match this will be for sure," Lee Jordan called into his microphone glumly. The Slytherin supporters were shouting all kinds of obscenities at the Gryffindor's.  
  
"Come on," Paris said and threw the doors open onto the pitch. "WAIT!" She screamed, making everyone on the pitch turn and look. Paris wanted to laugh, she was unsure who looked the most shocked, Gryffindor or Slytherin.  
  
With a big grin on her face, she walked to the middle of the pitch and joined the Gryffindor's.  
  
"I present my new stand in, perfectly legal and a brilliant player if I say so myself," Paris announced to the two teams and Madam Hooch, who was smiling widely.  
  
Standing next to Paris was the tall, muscled, red headed form of Charlie Weasley grinning madly and decked out fully in the Gryffindor uniform.  
  
"You can't do that! Miss, it isn't allowed!" Warrington howled at once, the colour draining from his face. Oliver looked as if he may faint. Paris wished she had a camera to capture their faces.  
  
"C-Charlie is playing? For me? I'm his Captain?" Oliver stuttered in disbelief and awe.  
  
"I sure am Captain," Charlie replied, grinning from Oliver to Paris.  
  
"Thank you so much Charlie," Paris said again and kissed his cheek lovingly. "Come on Oliver, Charlie needs to know the formation!" Paris said, laughing openly at her poor boyfriend.  
  
Oliver said nothing, just grabbed Paris and squeezed her so tight; she thought she might pass out.  
  
"Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!" Oliver said frantically, kissing Paris senseless then letting her go and grabbing Charlie. Paris believed Oliver was actually sobbing into Charlie's neck but quickly let him go and pretended to sneeze so he could wipe his eyes.  
  
"Well ladies and gentlemen, it seems Gryffindor have yet another new Seeker, none other than the legend that is Mister Charlie Weasley! I think I may cry," Lee Jordan cried to the crowd, who all immediately leant over the stands to gawp at Charlie. Paris had never heard the Gryffindor's scream so loudly.  
  
"Good luck," Paris said, winking at Charlie before making her way to the Gryffindor crush to enjoy the match.  
  
"Is this your doing?" Tristan shouted, looking at Paris in awe when she pushed her way to the front.  
  
"Nope. Nothing to do with me," Paris shrugged, grinning at Percy then settling herself to watch the game.  
  
The entire Gryffindor team played with such fire, Slytherin barely had a touch of the Quaffle. The Chasers were scoring left right and centre and Miles Bletchley, the Slytherin Keeper couldn't stop a single Quaffle.  
  
Slytherin and Gryffindor were almost equal with points on the scoreboard so all Gryffindor had do was win and the Cup was theirs.  
  
"Come on Charlie! Come on!" Paris, along with the rest of the supporters was shouting at Charlie. He looked great flying around the field, it was just like when he was at school and the huge grin on his proved he enjoyed it.  
  
"Of course, this game will be a piece of cake for Gryffindor. Charlie Weasley is the best player this school has ever seen!" Lee Jordan shouted. So far, all he had done was shout things about Charlie.  
  
"Jordan! Unless you're hoping for a marriage proposal from Weasley, can you please tell us what's going on in this game!" Professor McGonagall shouted at Lee.  
  
"Certainly Miss," Lee replied, bowing to his Head of House and continuing commentating.  
  
"Merlin, I can barely watch this," Paris cried, covering her eyes.  
  
"Are you insane? This is the best game I will ever see in my life!" Tristan shouted at Paris, pulling her hands away from her face before shouting obscenities at the Slytherin team.  
  
Suddenly, everyone began screaming. The din was deafening but it could only mean one thing, the Snitch.  
  
Everyone pushed forward to see what was going on and flags and posters were going everywhere with every single person screaming their heads off.  
  
Charlie was diving for the Snitch with Pansy no where in sight. All the players stopped playing and just watched in awe.  
  
"And it's Weasley there going for the Snitch, oh this is confusing, three Weasley's on the pitch at once! And where is Parkinson? Come on Pansy, it's the Cup on the line here! Charlie dives up, he dives down, oh the Snitch sure is feisty today ladies and gentlemen. Oh and here's Pansy! You've got no chance girly; just go back to your lair or something! Charlie is close but can he? Can he? YES HE CAN! GRYFFINDOR WIN!" Lee screamed and almost fell out of the teacher's box.  
  
The Gryffindor box erupted. Everyone jumped up and down, crying and hugging each other. Flags were floating happily down toward the pitch and the look on the Slytherin's faces was priceless. So good in fact, Paris took a picture with her little camera she had brought.  
  
On the pitch, the Gryffindor's were jumping up and down and screaming with each other.  
  
"We won! We won!" Katie shouted, tears streaming down her face as George hugged her tightly.  
  
"Where's Oliver?" Angelina asked, looking around the pitch but he was no where to be seen.  
  
Oliver was bravely making his way up to the Gryffindor box, everyone screamed louder when they saw him and everyone wanted to shake his hand and pat him on the back but he pushed his way through toward a very surprised Paris.  
  
"Congratulations, Captain," Paris said, doing a little curtsy and grinning from ear to ear. He merely grabbed her and hugged her. Paris knew he was crying and felt her own eyes began to fill with tears of happiness too.  
  
"Thank you," Oliver said so only Paris could hear. "Thank you so much."  
  
"Go on, go hug your team. They've worked so hard," Paris said, pushing him away but Oliver firmly took her hand and pulled her toward the pitch with him.  
  
The atmosphere was unbelievable in the stadium and as soon as Paris stepped onto the beaten grass, all the hairs stood up on her newly bare neck.  
  
As soon as the Chasers clocked Paris they all rushed to her, screaming and laughing. Paris felt like it was she who had caught the Snitch.  
  
"I, you were, thank you," Oliver stuttered, holding his hand out to Charlie but Charlie shook his head and with a smile, pulled Oliver into a manly hug.  
  
Paris grinned and now the whole Gryffindor team was all crying freely. Paris looked up and saw Lee Jordan just clapping and Professor McGonagall giving Snape her condolences.  
  
Finally, the team made their way up to the teacher's box to finally hold the beloved Quidditch Cup. Oliver went first, as Captain and tried to stop crying.  
  
"Congratulations, Master Wood," Dumbledore said and passed him the gleaming Cup. Oliver took it and felt the breath escape his body. It was his. Finally he had earnt the Cup.  
  
Oliver raised the Cup and the stadium was filled with deafening applause.  
  
The party back in Gryffindor common room went on until the very early hours of the next morning. There was more food piled up in the common room than Paris had ever seen in one place before but the Gryffindor's took care of that.  
  
Of course, the guest of honour was Charlie Weasley, who was smiling bashfully at all the attention. He hadn't felt like this since he left school.  
  
Oliver was happier than anyone had ever seen him and spent the entire duration of the party talking and joking with every member of Gryffindor house.  
  
Paris was teaching the twins how to play a Muggle game called Pokemon with a little first year boy called Duncan, who owned the cards. Duncan was also a Muggle born and Paris was the only one who knew how to play the game.  
  
"Aren't the cards going to explode or something?" George complained, examining a card.  
  
"Explode?" Duncan repeated timidly. "I hope not."  
  
"They don't do anything Georgie, they're just cards. Why don't you teach Duncan Exploding Snap whilst I go find your brother?" Paris said getting up.  
  
"I'd love to," Fred said evilly and produced a pack of cards.  
  
"Nicely, he's only a first year," Paris said and made her way over to where Charlie was.  
  
"I'm sorry girls but I just need to steal Charlie for a few moments," Paris said to a gaggle of girls who had surrounded Charlie since he'd gotten off his broom. They all gave Paris dirty looks and looked disappointed.  
  
"You'll get him back, promise!" Paris called as she led Charlie over to the door to the boy's dormitory.  
  
"Thanks, I was beginning to get scared," Charlie laughed as he and Paris sat down on the steps leading up to the rooms.  
  
"Looks like Oliver has lost his fan club," Paris joked. "Anyway, I just want to say again Charlie, thank you so very much. You made Gryffindor very happy."  
  
"It's fine," Charlie replied, running a hand through his hair. "I'm glad you pulled me out anyway, I wanted to talk to you."  
  
"I wanted to talk to you too," Paris admitted. "You go first."  
  
"I wanted to say sorry, y'know about Christmas. I was an idiot," Charlie said sheepishly.  
  
"Forget it Charlie. Just promise me we won't fade apart. You're my very bestest friend in the whole world!" Paris joked, putting her arm around him.  
  
"We won't fade apart Paris, I seriously doubt you'll ever let me go. Anyway, I'm spending summer at home with Mick. You remember Mick?" Charlie asked.  
  
"The one who got drunk when he visited at Christmas ages ago and told me I was the prettiest fencing post he'd ever seen? Yeah, vaguely remember him," Paris said laughing.  
  
"I'll have to remind him about that," Charlie replied, smiling. "Anyway, we better get back."  
  
"OK," Paris replied, getting up.  
  
"By the way, nice hair," Charlie added with a smirk and Paris punched him playfully on the arm.  
  
"I think I'm going to be sick! I can't remember how to do a Switching Spell!" Percy said, panicking and fishing a huge book out of his bag.  
  
"Calm down," Paris hissed, trying to breathe through her fear also.  
  
It was the very first NEWT's exam and the seventh years were lining up outside the Great Hall waiting to begin their written Transfiguration exam.  
  
"Hang on a minute, what's the spell for turning a table into a horse?" Marino said suddenly, grabbing the book from Percy and flicking to the appropriate page.  
  
The seventh and fifth years had their exams all week and then on Saturday, the seventh years had their graduation which everyone was looking forward to.  
  
Unfortunately, through most of the written exams, Paris had to sit near Ava. She vowed if she failed her NEWT's, she would blame Ava. In fact, she'd just blame Ava for everything.  
  
The week went so very slowly and all Paris, Oliver, Marino, Percy did was revise until their eyes hurt and their brains couldn't store any more information.  
  
"Where's Percy?" Paris asked, Thursday evening leaning back in her chair. Her back hurt, her feet hurt and she was tired of being pregnant. Madam Pomfry wouldn't give her any sympathy, saying there were women who were much bigger than Paris and she should think herself lucky she was only having one baby.  
  
"He mumbled something about the library and Cornish pasties," Oliver said, also leaning back and pressing his palms into his eyes.  
  
"He is so stressed, he gave a second year four hundred lines for walking too slow in the corridor this morning," Paris sighed, giving Oliver a tired smile.  
  
"How're you feeling?" He asked, reaching over and squeezing her knee affectionately.  
  
"I really cannot wait to give birth. It's just so heavy, I can barely move," Paris said, glad for a little vent. "I think I've thought of a name anyway."  
  
"For what?" Oliver replied, looking at Paris.  
  
"Our son, Oliver."  
  
"Oh. Right, so what is it?" Oliver said with a nod.  
  
"I was thinking, he's supposed to be really special right? I mean it doesn't matter if he isn't but Dumbledore said he'd grow to achieve great things," Paris explained. "I'm named after a Prince who wasn't exactly a hero but whatever and you're Oliver, could be after Oliver Cromwell who was also a great man -,"  
  
"Who?" Oliver interrupted but Paris ignored him.  
  
"One of the greatest men in history was of course, Alexander the Great and Alexander means protector of men. It's a nice name," Paris finished hopefully.  
  
"Alex...yeah, I like it. Alexander Wood," Oliver said, sounding the syllables out slowly and smiling. "Wow, he has a name. We're really having a baby!"  
  
"You've only just realized?" Paris asked, cocking an eyebrow.  
  
"Well he's going to be here soon, isn't he? Our own little boy. Us, parents! Think, we'll see him grow, see his first steps and school and Quidditch match - ,"  
  
"Supposing he wants to play Quidditch."  
  
"Oh, he will," Oliver confirmed and drifted off into a day dream about teaching his son Quidditch. 


	19. Squeezing Watermelons out of Lemons

The sun was hot on the back of Paris' neck but she was feeling very nervous and was holding Oliver's hand very tightly as she listened to Dumbledore speak.

She felt sad but excited and nervous. This was her graduation, what she'd been looking forward to all her school life. True, the NEWT's had almost killed her, they were the toughest exams she had ever had to take but the graduation afterwards was all worth it.

Behind the students were parents and family, all looking extremely proud of their children.

Paris glanced side ways and smiled at Marino who was holding Percy's hand and looking glorious in her red and gold graduation robes. Behind the Gryffindor's were the other houses, all dressed in corresponding coloured silk robes and seated on chairs outside near the castle.

"This is the time of year for both celebration and sadness. These fine seventh years will be leaving Hogwarts undoubtedly with fond memories and strong relationships to go out and make lives of their own," Dumbledore explained slowly, smiling fondly at his oldest students. "These students have worked hard for seven years toward this day. It is my honour to deliver your NEWT results which will determine your future. When I call your name, please come up and collect your diploma."

Paris turned around quickly and gave Mr. and Mrs. Weasley a big grin. Next to them were Charlie, Bill and Mick. Behind them were Mr. and Mrs. Wood with Oliver's three brothers all smartly dressed for the occasion.

"Caley Abercombie," Dumbledore called and a Ravenclaw girl got up, smiling bashfully and made her way to stage. Her family cat called her and cheered as Caley received her certificate and everyone clapped politely as she stood to one side where all the teachers were sat and read her results. She shrieked loudly and gave her family a thumbs up.

"Andrew Warrington," Dumbledore continued and the horrible Slytherin Captain lumbered out of his seat and up on stage. His black and green robes were obviously too small for him as they were stretched across his broad back uncomfortably.

"I thought I had problems getting my robes on," Paris whispered to Oliver, who stifled a laugh.

"Marino Morrissey," Dumbledore called and Marino went bright red as she got up. Paris could hear her little twin sisters calling after her and clapping. "Well done Marino," Dumbledore said as he passed her diploma to her. Marino gave a little wave before going to stand next to Warrington, be it about five feet away from him.

Cedric was next and he got a big applause from his parents and the Weasley's. His blonde hair was shining in the sun and his cheeks were flushed as if he'd just ran ten miles when he stepped onto stage with Dumbledore. Cedric thanked his headmaster and even went over to Professor Sprout, the Herbology professor and Head of Hufflepuff house and gave her a kiss on the cheek. It was difficult to tell who was redder, Cedric or Professor Sprout as Cedric went to stand next to Marino.

Dumbledore continued calling names and after Roger Davies, it was Oliver's turn. Dumbledore was smiling openly as Oliver made his way onto stage.

"I can proudly reveal that Master Wood has been accepted to the Great Britain Quidditch training academy for the under 21's! Congratulations," Dumbledore announced proudly as he passed Oliver his diploma. Paris, along with everyone else jumped to their feet and began clapping and cheering for him. Paris was glad to hear Oliver's brothers were cheering the loudest.

Oliver looked shocked as he went to stand near Roger who gave him a hearty slap on the back and looked over to Paris who grinned and gave him a thumbs up. She was so proud of him and turned around again and grinned at Charlie and the rest of them.

Finally, Paris' name was called. She smiled and looked around and saw she was the last one to be called. She stood up slowly and made her way to the stage.

As he was nearest, Professor Lupin stood up and helped Paris up the few steps onto the stage and she received her diploma and shook Dumbledore's hand and went over to stand next to a Hufflepuff called Ned Jones.

Paris quickly opened her envelope and peeked at her results, there were some Outstanding and mostly Exceeds Expectations. She grinned and Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, showing them she'd done well. Percy, of course was the highest achiever in the year.

"On behalf of all the teachers and myself, congratulations to the class of '04!" Dumbledore said finally and the seventh years cheered and threw their different coloured hats into the air.

After graduation, everyone went back to their respective houses to waste away the afternoon with their own little end of year party.

"As the oldest member of Gryffindor House at this time, apparently, it is my duty to give you a little speech," Paris announced, getting up at the front in front of the fireplace.

"Here, here," The house shouted, swinging their bottles of Butterbeer into the air.

"Yes, here here," Paris repeated, also raising her Butterbeer. "Anyway, I suppose first a congratulations is in order because I seriously doubt without your enthusiasm and willingness to harm the Slytherin team, our fine Quidditch team would never have won the Quidditch Cup!"

Paris paused for the riotous cheers from her house.

"Yep, so to Gryffindor Quidditch team!" Paris shouted, raising her bottle again.

"Gryffindor Quidditch team!" The house repeated and raised their bottles, sloshing a large amount of Butterbeer over the carpet and themselves in their eagerness.

"And even though I'm not supposed to say but I don't think the Captain will mind but as both myself and the wonderful man that is Oliver Wood won't be returning next year, the new Gryffindor Captain will be the beautiful...Angelina Johnson!" Paris shouted happily.

Katie and Alicia, who were sitting with Angelina both screamed and hugged their friend in happiness whilst Angelina just sat there gob smacked.

"Fix!" Fred shouted in good humour as everyone congratulated Angelina.

"You'd better take care of my team Angelina!" Oliver shouted, taking a drink from his bottle.

"And she'll need a new Seeker and Keeper!" George called. "Good luck finding some amongst this bunch of Flobberworms!"

George was pelted with crisps and sweets but he was just teasing.

"So congratulations to our Angelina, I just know she'll be great," Paris said, raising her drink once again and everyone shouted 'Hear, hear' again and slopped yet more Butterbeer over each other.

"Anyway, I'll stop talking soon but I just wanted to say thank you to each and every one of you for one thing or another. I have always been able to count on you for a laugh or whatever I needed. Gryffindor truly is the best house!" Paris shouted and the house agreed with her raucously.

"And even though I'm not supposed to say – I am really rubbish at keeping secrets today – but I'd just like to say that all of you are invited to mine and Oliver's wedding on August first."

The common room filled with a stunned silence.

"You're getting bloody married? Since when?" Fred yelled indignantly.

"Bridesmaid!" Marino, Angelina, Katie and Alicia all shouted together then looked at one another and laughed.

"Well congratulations Wood!" Tristan yelled, slapping Oliver on the back in the way that boys do.

"Since when are you getting married?" Fred repeated but Paris just grabbed him and hugged him. The rest of the afternoon was spent with many laughs, a few tears and plenty of very fond memories.

"Merlin, is it hot today!?" Marino cried, fanning herself with her hand.

"Don't remind me," Paris sighed, putting her hands on her back to try and support it. "I'm sweating buckets here."

"Thanks," Fred replied, making a face as he'd just taken a mouthful of his chocolate kiwi ice cream.

Paris, Fred, Marino and Percy had decided to take a wander down to Hogsmeade the following Tuesday afternoon and being the twelve of June, it was very hot.

Oliver and George had decided to stay behind at school and play Quidditch with some Ravenclaw's and Hufflepuffs.

Paris was enjoying her own strawberry and peanut butter ice cream immensely and was watching Marino and Percy fondly. They were walking ahead, hand in hand, both looking happier than Paris had ever seen them.

As a small treat and due to the fact Percy was going to kill himself through stress, Marino had decided to enlighten him during the NEWT's and both had been grinning ever since.

"Aren't they happy?" Paris said quietly to Fred, nodding her head toward the pair.

"Yeah," Fred agreed. "Poor old Perce doesn't really stand a chance with her though, does he?"

"Quite possibly the oddest couple ever but I think its love, Fred. Y'know they, did it during the exams," Paris said very quietly.

"What? In the hall?" Fred hissed.

"No! When they were alone, obviously. Don't you say anything though," Paris warned.

"My lips are sealed," Fred replied. "Lucky old Percy."

"Uh huh...OW!" Paris cried, doubling over slightly.

"What? What is it?" Fred asked quickly, putting a hand on Paris shoulder.

"It was nothing, just a - OW!" Paris cried again. It was a sharp pain in the pit of her stomach that went as soon as it came.

"Fred? What's going on?" Marino asked, jogging back to where Paris and Fred stood.

"I don't know," Fred replied frantically.

"Just a pain, I'm sure – OW! Oh, it really hurts!" Paris cried once again.

"Get her over to that bench so she can sit down," Marino instructed throwing her champagne and strawberry ice cream in the bin.

Fred led Paris to sit down but it made very little difference.

"It can't be the baby can it? He's not due just yet! You're not nine months along or anything," Percy said quickly.

"I think I better go to Madam Pomfry," Paris said through gritted teeth.

"Nothings wrong, is there?" Marino asked Percy.

"I don't know!" Percy replied anxiously, wringing his hands.

"Madam Pomfry!" Paris hissed, grabbing Fred by the collar. "NOW!"

"I think she wants Madam Pomfry," Fred said, attempting to pry Paris off his t-shirt.

"Oh Merlin, it's a long way back to school. What are we going to do? You'll have to carry her or something!" Marino cried.

"I can't bloody lift her! Do you know how much she weighs?" Fred cried back.

"Do a bloody Strong Man charm then!" Marino shouted at him.

"What about a Feather Lite charm?" Percy offered.

"You can't charm her! She's about to have a baby!" Marino shouted back.

"I thought you said she wasn't!" Fred shouted nervously.

The three were getting more and more hysterical by the minute when it was Paris who should be the panicking one.

"Ouch! You know guys? I think...guys? GUYS!" Paris shouted, everyone turned to her and stopped arguing.

"What?" Fred shouted at her. "What is it?"

"I'm having a baby," Paris said simply.

"Are you sure?" Percy replied fearfully.

"Unless I'm very much mistaken, I think my water just broke!" Paris said, looking up at her friends.

"Oh! You're having a baby!" Marino squealed happily.

"That's it; I'm definitely not carrying her now!" Fred said but Marino smacked him on the arm.

"Do the Strong Man charm now! She needs to get to hospital unless you fancy being her midwife!" Marino shouted at him.

"Ok, Ok!" Fred said hastily, getting out his wand. "Validus Compleo!"

Fred quickly pocketed his wand and although it wasn't noticeable, was now able to carry four large tables without breaking a sweat.

"Haven't you got to that breathing thing?" Percy asked, hopping onto one foot and then the other nervously.

"Just get me to school," Paris cried, clutching her stomach and crying out in pain as Fred lifted her clean of the ground and cradled her in his arms.

"It's ok Paris, does it hurt much?" Marino asked as Fred began walking quickly back toward the school. It was quite a funny sight and Paris probably would've laughed had she not been in so much bloody pain.

"You've no idea OW! Oh, OWW!" Paris cried out again, grabbing hold of Fred's neck and almost choking him.

The four were now reaching the gates of Hogwarts and Marino ran ahead to find Oliver who thankfully was still playing Quidditch.

"I expect an expensive present after this," Fred said to Paris and she smiled briefly at him before having another spasm of pain.

"OLIVER!" Marino screamed so loudly, Oliver almost toppled off his broom in mid air.

"What?" Oliver called down, looking to George briefly.

"It's Paris! She's having the baby!" Marino screeched, beckoning him to come down.

Oliver plummeted to the ground faster than Marino could blink and ran straight into her.

"Where is she? Is she ok? What's happening? Who's with her? Where is she?" The words spilled from Oliver's mouth faster than Marino could translate them into sense in her brain.

"With Fred, they're coming!" Marino replied quickly, understanding the 'where is she?' part.

At that moment Paris, Fred and Percy came into sight and Oliver ran to meet them.

"Paris! Are you ok?" Oliver asked frantically, grabbing a hold of his girlfriend.

"She made me drop my ice cream, left puddles all over Hogsmeade and myself I might add and threatened to strangle me. I'd say she's a little peeved," Fred said, replying to the question.

"Shut...up...FRED!" Paris shouted. "For the – OUCH! – last time, MADAM POMFRY!"

"Take her, just take her before she starts chucking up slime and telling me what my mother does in Hell," Fred said quickly, giving Paris to Oliver as if she were a toy.

Oliver practically sprinted up toward the castle with Paris in his arms while Marino and the boys ran after him.

"Madam Pomfry! It's happening!" Oliver shouted loudly, bursting into the pristine hospital wing and almost scaring the poor matron to death.

"What on earth Wood?" Madam Pomfry asked but soon realized what was happening. Just as Oliver laid Paris on the nearest bed, Marino, Percy, the twins and some random other students all tried to pile through the door at once but Madam Pomfry was too quick and slammed the doors shut, almost knocking several of them unconscious.

"Is she dilated?" Madam Pomfry asked briskly, putting on an apron.

"Is she what? I don't know! Ask Fred Weasley, I've only just seen her!" Oliver replied frantically, who was pushing the hair off Paris' sweaty forehead and trying to reassure her.

"Weasley! In here!" Madam Pomfry called, dragging Fred in.

"I don't want to see anything!" Fred cried frantically, covering his eyes.

"When did she start getting contractions?" Madam Pomfry asked, still holding him by the scruff of his neck.

"About ten minutes ago!" Fred replied desperately, still covering his eyes. Madam Pomfry pushed him back outside as he called "I think you've given me whiplash!"

"Take her shoes off," Madam Pomfry instructed to Oliver.

"What?" Oliver replied, looking extremely ill.

"Her shoes Wood! Come on!" Madam Pomfry snapped. "Then take off her shorts and underwear."

"WHAT?" Oliver shrieked.

"Unless she wants to deliver this baby into her knickers, get moving!" Madam Pomfry exasperated, throwing a sheet over the lower part of Paris' body.

"Oh my Mer...," Oliver trailed off and collapsed in a heap on the floor. Madam Pomfry peered over the bed at him and rolled her eyes.

"Can't even do a simple thing," She muttered, kneeling down at Oliver's side and giving a hard slap across the face. He awoke immediately.

"Gross!" Oliver cried, throwing Paris' shorts away. Clearly he had not enjoyed the view as he took her shorts off.

"Oliver?" Paris uttered desperately, reaching out for him.

"I'm here, I'm here. I'm sorry but that was disgusting," Oliver explained.

"It's early, I've not prepared any potions. I'm sorry Paris but it's going to a Muggle birth," Madam Pomfry explained to Paris whilst pushing a wet cloth into Oliver's hands to wipe her brow with.

"A Muggle birth? What does that mean?" Oliver asked anxiously, mopping his own forehead with the cloth.

"Pain," Madam Pomfry replied grimly before pushing the cloth onto Paris' head to show Oliver it was for her.

"Oh fuck," Oliver cursed and gripped Paris' hand tightly.

"Look at him Paris, just look," Oliver sighed, his voice heavy with emotion.

"I can see him Oliver," Paris said quietly, blinking lazily in the golden evening sunlight.

"I love him already, I've never loved something so much in my life," Oliver continued, gazing down at his tiny son he was cradling in his arms.

The birth was the hardest thing Paris had ever had to do. She'd rather have done her NEWT's all over again than give birth but she knew it was all worth it. Oliver on the other hand had fainted another two times much to the annoyance of Madam Pomfry.

"He's just so beautiful," Paris said fondly, stroking his hand with her index finger. She was propped up in bed with Oliver sitting next to her holding the baby.

"I'm so proud of you," Oliver said softly, kissing Paris' forehead. She smiled up at him, feeling nothing but pure happiness and content.

Just then, about twenty people all burst through the doors at once, all pushing and shoving and talking at once. They all stopped dead in their tracks when they saw Paris and Oliver holding the precious one.

"Hello," Paris said to the crowd of people which were made up of The Weasley's, The Wood's, Marino and Angelina, Alicia and Katie.

Mrs. Weasley began sobbing at this point followed by Oliver's mother and the rest of the females.

The all edged closer, focusing on one thing, naturally.

"He's tiny! By the size of you he looked like he'd weigh about five stone!" Fred pointed out, being the first one to break the silence.

"Thanks Fred," Paris said with a nod and held out her arms for a hug. She held onto him tight, feeling her emotions getting the better of her and by the snuffling sounds, it had overcome Fred also.

"How're you feeling?" Mrs. Wood asked nicely to Paris.

"Like I just squeezed something the size of a watermelon out of something the size of a lemon," Paris replied with a smile.

"Something the size of a lemon? Merlin, you don't want to go flaunting that around Paris!" Fred warned.

"Oh he's gorgeous!" Marino sighed, ignoring Fred and leaning her head on Percy's chest and smiling fondly.

"Can I hold him?" Angelina asked hopefully.

"I carried her about three miles! I should hold him first!" Fred said indignantly, recovering from his little cry.

"I will be holding him first," Mrs. Weasley announced, holding out her arms for the baby, her eyes red and wet.

"Actually, I'd kind of like Charlie to hold him first," Paris said, looking at Charlie who was standing next to his father and Oliver's brother Robert.

"Me?" Charlie echoed, looking ill.

"Him?" Mrs. Weasley, Fred, Angelina and Marino cried in unison.

"Yeah go on," Paris urged.

"Oh no, I don't want to hold it," Charlie said, holding up his hands.

"Not it Charlie, him. Alexander James Wood to be precise," Paris said as Oliver passed baby Alex to Charlie. Paris grinned as she watched Charlie cradle Alex as if he were the most precious thing in the world.

"It's – I mean he's so, small," Charlie said quietly, looking at the baby and feeling his eyes tear up.

Alex was passed around for everyone to have a little hold of.

"Hello little heart breaker," Devon cooed when it was his turn.

"Yeah, he is good looking. You sure he's yours Wood?" Fred joked but he still got a smack around the head with a fruit bowl from Mrs. Weasley.

After everyone had asked enough questions, held Alex enough and laughed at the fact Oliver had fainted three times, Paris and Oliver were left alone.

"It's the start of our lives Paris. We're parents now," Oliver said, watching Alex, who was asleep in his little crib at the foot of Paris' hospital bed.

"I know. Are you scared?" Paris asked, brushing her hair into some kind of acceptable style.

"Nope because I know that we can get through anything and between us, we'll make a great life for Alex," Oliver replied, looking at Paris.

"I love you, I really do love you Oliver Wood," She said in earnest.

"And I you," Oliver replied, kissing Paris deeply.

"Ahem," someone said softly. Paris and Oliver broke away and saw Dumbledore, smiling at the doors. "Not interrupting, am I?"

"No sir," Oliver replied sheepishly, shifting away slightly from Paris.

Dumbledore approached Alex's crib and peered in, still smiling.

"Congratulations. He's a very beautiful baby," Dumbledore said softly, looking at the pair.

"Thank you sir," Paris replied.

"There will be many an eye on this little boy as he grows up," Dumbledore explained. "You have finally given the world their Gemini baby. May I?"

"Of course," Oliver said quickly and the old headmaster carefully plucked Alex from his crib and held him in his arms.

"Such a special little boy yet such a mystery. It goes without saying but take care of this child and take care of each other. Never lose your love," Dumbledore said gently and smiled down at little Alex. It was strange how such a tiny child could belittle the greatest wizard alive.


	20. Young Without Youth

Paris watched her reflection in the mirror of her dresser she had sat at for seven years and would never sit at again.

She had sat here on her very first night at Hogwarts, crying because she desperately wanted to go home and be with her mother who had abandoned her just days before.

Paris adjusted the gold head band of her costume. It was the Leaver's Ball and the seventh years always dressed up in various outfits. Paris had chosen Egyptian and her new short hair made her look a lot like Cleopatra, especially with the gold body paint and black eye liner Marino had smudged on her earlier.

Paris looked around her now empty dorm. Everything had been packed away and it looked sad and bare.

How things had changed for her. Never in her wildest dreams would she have imagined she'd be a mother to Oliver's Wood's child at the end of her school life. A big, big part of her didn't want to leave Hogwarts but she was getting married soon and had a family now.

She remembered her first day at school, hanging onto Percy for dear life in case she got lost and eaten or something. Charlie was very young then, he was a fourth year and already Quidditch Captain. Bill was a seventh year and Head Boy with his Gryffindor girlfriend Asprey Barrett as Head Girl.

Paris smiled sadly at her fond memories and picked up her first Prefect badge she had laid on her table. Percy had shined his so much, some of the enamel had worn away and that was before they'd even started school. Paris picked up her Quidditch badge, announcing to the world she was part of the team. She never wore her badge though but kept it safe.

Paris thought back to the Sorting Ceremony where she had met Marino for the first time, a small little girl with unmissable blonde curls. Paris also saw Oliver there for the first time too, she could still remember giggling about him later that night. Paris also suddenly thought about Marcus Flint, he must've been there too. Yes, she remembered him, a small, scrawny dark haired boy who did nothing but scowl until he was Sorted into Slytherin.

"Here we go," Paris said to her reflection and got up and left her room. Amongst the old badges was the palm sized stone prophecy which was slowly flashing two engraved verses – verses which had not been there before.

"You touch my top and I swear I will kill you," Paris warned Fred.

"With what? You haven't even got your wand! Didn't think your costume out very well did you? No where to put your wand!" Fred sang in an annoying voice.

"Oh I have it. Somewhere," Paris said slyly, giving Marino a wink.

"Stop it! I'm going to be mentally scarred Paris! Do you want that on your conscience?" Fred cried, clutching his head. He hadn't really been the same since Paris went into labour.

"You'd be mentally scarred if I said to you to imagine Snape in a pink tutu," Paris said informatively, taking a sip of her drink.

"Stop it!" Fred cried, leaving and going over to the food to comfort eat.

The party was under way in the Great Hall and all the Seventh years looked great in their costumes. Marino had decided to dress up as a damsel in distress complete with about fifty layers of petticoats which she was regretting in the evening heat. Percy had dressed up as a pirate and Oliver decided on a Knight mainly because they wanted swords to play with.

In fact, quite a few of the male seventh years had dressed up as something what a sword came with. Cedric was Robin Hood and Paris was pretty sure Robin Hood had arrows but Cedric had decided on a sword anyway.

"Hello!" Oliver said brightly, joining Paris, Marino and Percy.

"Is he alright?" Paris asked instantly.

"Yes, he's asleep. Like usual," Oliver replied, taking a sip of Paris' drink. With much convincing, Paris had agreed to leave Alex in the hospital wing whilst she enjoyed the party. Madam Pomfry had promised he would be safe and put a special charm on the door which only she, Paris and Oliver knew how to reverse. Paris had decided she and Oliver would take turns visiting their son just to be sure.

"Anyway, come on Oliver. Fancy a little dance?" Marino asked, elbowing him in the ribs playfully.

"Sure," Oliver replied and allowed Marino to drag him off to dance while Paris and Percy just watched, bemused. Oliver had been in a very good mood since Alex was born three days previous.

"You look nice Paris!" Alyssia called, coming over and joining Paris and Percy.

"Thanks Lis, I never got the chance to congratulate you on that game you played a few weeks ago. You were great," Paris said to her friend after giving her a hug.

"Aw, thanks. I'm thinking of actually joining the team next year," Alyssia informed, tucking her hair behind her ear.

"I'll have to tell Angelina, she's the new Captain for Gryffindor," Paris said with a laugh.

"Oh great, I'll go find her and congratulate her," Alyssia said and with a smile at Percy, left the two to it.

The night went by quickly and everyone seemed to be having fun.

"I think I'll just go check on Alex," Paris shouted to Oliver over the music.

"Do you want me to come?" Oliver shouted back, stopping his maniac dancing for a minute.

"No, I'll be fine. I'll see you in about ten minutes," Paris replied with a shake of her head.

"OK," Oliver replied and gave Paris a quick kiss on the lips before going back to dancing with Alicia.

Paris left the dance floor and made her way out of the Hall. The school was deserted and very quiet and Paris hurried toward the hospital wing.

The flame torches lighting the corridor flickered as she swept past them and Paris couldn't help shuddering even though it was a warm, muggy night.

Paris reached the hospital wing and opened the doors with her wand then closed them quietly behind her. As she walked toward her baby, she couldn't help smiling to herself.

Alex was sleeping peacefully, he was a good baby so far and Paris was glad he hadn't screamed himself stupid yet. She was sure that joy was yet to come.

She reached down and stroked his little chest fondly, feeling the softness of his blue baby grow. He looked so much like Oliver, same big brown eyes and dark hair. Oliver had already examined him and decided he'd be a good Beater as he had strong arms. A day old baby with strong arms?!

"He's a real nice looking baby, which is a surprise," a voice said from the shadows.

Paris clapped a hand to her mouth to keep herself from screaming. With her eyes opened wide in shock and fear, Marcus Flint appeared from the shadows looking grim.

"Hey, you've cut your hair," Marcus pointed out, approaching to where Paris was standing next to Alex, asleep in his crib.

"Now?" Paris uttered, lowering her hand.

"It's time Paris but I must say, I'm surprised you worked it out. Never were the sharpest pin in the sewing box, were you?" Marcus said conversationally.

"You'll never do it. You haven't got the guts," Paris said a little louder.

"Run. Go on, make it a little interesting," Marcus offered. He wasn't his usual sneering self; he had a strange air about him and spoke with a new found maturity.

"I'm not scared of you Marcus," Paris said, backing away slowly from Alex. She wanted Marcus as far away from her baby as possible and if it meant luring him to chase her, she'd do it.

"Why are you backing away?" Marcus asked, following her.

"How did you get in the hospital?" Paris replied, still backing toward the door. She just needed to get out and get out now.

"I have many hidden talents, a flimsy charm on a door isn't exactly a challenge anyway," Marcus replied, getting his wand out from his pocket and twirling it between his fingers.

"Hidden talents? You're stupider than the whole of the Slytherin Quidditch team put together!" Paris shouted and turned and ran as fast as she could out of the hospital wing doors.

"Now isn't this fun?" Marcus called, clearly chasing after her. "Makes it all worth while!"

Paris was panicking now, she hadn't really thought this out very well but all she wanted was Marcus away from Alex. She turned a sharp corner and realized she was at the main entrance.

Without thinking, she pelted down the stone steps and into the night air.

Looking left then right, Paris decided she really didn't fancy running for her life through the Forbidden Forest so ran toward the lake. She screamed as a jet of red light flew past her ear, emitted from Marcus' wand.

"Oh buggering hell," Paris cried, rounding a corner and being faced with the Whomping Willow, a particularly violent tree.

Paris screamed again as she felt Marcus slam into the back of her, sending them both flying forward.

"Get off! Get off me!" Paris cried, attempting to punch Marcus off her and try and see how close they were to the Willow.

Marcus was just laughing cruelly but Paris kicked him sharply between the legs and scrambled up and away from him. She ran around the Willow but didn't give it a wide enough berth and one of the smaller branches caught her on the arm and face, slashing deep gashes into her flesh.

"It's enough play time now," Marcus shouted and thankfully he sounded distant. Paris threw a curse over her shoulder and couldn't tell if it made contact.

She was now hurtling past the Greenhouses and unfortunately, quite far away from the Great Hall. Her mind was muddled with fear and she just couldn't think. She just took the nearest door and found she was quite close to the revolving staircases that led to Gryffindor Tower. Gryffindor Tower! Paris knew she'd be safe there and jumped onto the nearest staircase and began climbing the steps as the banister smashed thanks to another curse from Marcus. He was keeping up well and it was a good job Paris was a fast runner, due to being chased most of her childhood with various insects by Fred or George.

Paris shouted another curse over her shoulder and looked to see where Marcus was as he rugby tackled her over again. He wrapped his hands around her throat as Paris struggled under him, kicking and punching.

Marcus held her down uncomfortably with one hand on the stone steps and pointed his wand at her. Just as he was about to utter a curse, she smacked his wand out of his hand and scrambled away after it. Paris caught it and snapped it in two and pushed it off the stairs where it fell right into the dungeon.

"You silly little cow," Marcus growled as Paris crawled up the stairs before finding her footing and running as fast as she possibly could toward Gryffindor Tower.

What was she going to do when she got there? Run inside and hope Marcus would just go away? She needed Oliver or someone, anyone.

Paris climbed the last set of steps just as they rotated, leading her away from Gryffindor Tower and head first into Marcus.

"Ah, there you are," He said wickedly and grabbed a handful of Paris' hair.

"Ouch!" She cried, cringing away from him as he pried her wand from her hand and pointed it at her.

"Well, as we're here, aren't you going to invite me in?" Marcus asked, still clutching her hair and pushing her back toward Gryffindor Tower. "Say the password!" Marcus demanded and poked Paris hard in the ribs with her wand.

Paris said the password and Marcus pushed her into her own common room. He followed, looking around the cosy little room.

"This is much nicer than ours," Marcus said, nodding. He looked at Paris who was rubbing the back of her head where he had almost wrenched the clump of hair out. "Ah, I see Gryffindor actually got the Cup this year!" Marcus said, noticing the Quidditch Cup on the fireplace surrounded by various photographs, mostly of the team and of Slytherin's horrified expressions.

"It's because we're much nicer and deserve the best," She said quietly.

"What was that? Not an insult I hope? I'd hate to have to curse you but, it could be fun," Marcus said, rounding her so his back was in front of the fire place and Paris was in front of the portrait hole.

"I see you haven't changed then, still all talk no action," Paris said cockily. Marcus roared angrily and emitted a curse at her from Paris' own wand. It was the Crucio Curse and for a few pain worse than death minutes, it engulfed Paris' very being.

She fell to her knees, gasping for air, tears staining her cheeks.

"Perhaps you'll think before you talk next time," Marcus informed, examining Paris' wand.

"They're...illegal," Paris gasped.

"Do you really think I care Paris? I've waited too long for this moment and I won't have a Mudblood cheek me," Marcus explained coolly. "Because that's all you are, aren't you? A dirty little Mudblood who should've been killed as soon as she was born. Better late than never, eh? I hear your parents won't mind."

Paris looked up at Marcus, tears rolling down her cheeks and stinging her gash and she knew this was it.

"Answer me one thing," Paris uttered, unsteadily getting to her feet. "How do you know so much about me and my family?"

"Paris, Paris. Where are your manners? If you ask you do not get," Marcus said softly, raising his wand. "Anyway, wonder where little Oliver is? Not here to save you this time, is he? I told you what would happen Paris, didn't I? The next time we're alone I told you not to expect to get away with a black eye."

"Stay away from my baby," Paris warned, looking Marcus in the eyes and shuddering with fear.

"I can't promise that Paris but I'll leave Oliver, he'll suffer far too much more if I leave him alive anyway," Marcus said with a little shrug and a smile. "Night night, Paris."

Paris closed her eyes and felt something tingle through her fingers, a soft breeze coming from no where. She wiggled her fingers slowly and felt the air between them. She tilted her head skywards slightly and felt something which could've been sun warming her cheeks. Her heart was bursting but her mind was calm.

She heard the words and knew no more. The Avada Kedavra curse emitted from her own wand slammed into her chest and killed her instantly. What Marcus didn't bet on was the ball of green light rebounding off Paris' body and hitting him with such force, it knocked him over.

Both were dead before either of them hit the floor.

"I knew I should've gone with her!" Oliver said to Marino.

"Calm down, I'm sure she's fine, perhaps she went for a walk or something? Or maybe she went back to the Tower?" Marino said, trying to be rash. Paris had been gone for fifteen minutes and Oliver was panicking.

"Maybe she did go back to the Tower," Oliver decided and began climbing the steps toward it. "It's not like her to just go wandering off, what if something happened?" Oliver worried, adjusting his sword to climb the steps easier.

"Nothing's happened! Merlin, relax," Marino exasperated, following Oliver and shaking her head.

Oliver said nothing as he jogged up the remainder of the steps and approached the portrait. He wasn't sure what to do if Paris wasn't in here.

He said the password and it swung open.

"There, she's in there isn't she...ARGHHHH!" Marino began, but upon seeing what was inside, began screaming hysterically.

Oliver didn't hear Marino scream, he just saw Paris. Dead.

He walked slowly over to her and dropped to his knees. Paris had fallen on her back, her eyes closed but her lips parted slightly. One arm was across the floor whilst the other was across her body.

"Have you found her?" Professor Lupin called and almost fell over Marino who was sobbing at the doorway to the common room. "What on...?" Lupin began but saw. He left quickly calling for Dumbledore.

Oliver was still unaware of anything as he stroked a few hairs from Paris' face and noticed she had lost her head band from her costume. Her make up had been smudged by tears as they still were wet on her face. He took her hand in his and kissed it softly, tasting the blood from her cut knuckles. He laid it back on her body carefully and closed his eyes.

"Oliver?" He heard his Headmaster say distantly but he made no effort to listen. He was unsure how much time had passed as he felt someone hoist him up and sit him on one of the common room chairs.

All around him were people, asking questions in strained voices and milling around. Oliver knew what had happened; he'd seen Marcus and a wand. He didn't know how but he knew it was Marcus.

Oliver hadn't moved all night.

Marino hadn't ceased crying all night and was huddled up on a sofa with Percy and had cried all down his shirt whilst Percy looked like he was going to throw up at any minute.

Fred had his head in his hands whilst George leant right back into his chair, and kept wiping his eyes with his sleeve.

"But Albus!" Professor McGonagall said in desperate, hushed tones the other side of the common room. "How did this happen? And why?"

"I cannot say Minerva but it seems he used her own wand to try and kill her with. He succeeded but it rebounded, something he wasn't expecting I wouldn't doubt," Dumbledore said quietly.

"But why?" McGonagall pressed, her face white. "Why murder an innocent girl?"

"Only he knows for sure," Dumbledore replied, the Headmaster looking older than ever.


	21. Last Train Home

**A/N:** Well, here it is. My very last chapter of Popularity Brings Friends and Enemies. It's taken me a year to get this far and I'm glad and sad about it.

First off, I listen to songs to get me in the mood to type. Those songs are _'The Scientist' _by Coldplay, _'Chance' _by Big Country, _'AmericanEnglish'_ by Idlewild and _'Run' _by Snow Patrol. Of course, I have to give _'Where the Story Ends' _by Blazin' Squad (scoff) a huge mention because just one verse of it gave me the entire idea and moral of my fanfiction...read the lyrics and guess which verse!

Secondly, do not fear...I have a sequel in progress which will explain all the unanswered questions in this fic (there are lots) Like the prophecy for example...I will explain that thing properly in the next one.

Lastly but not leastly, I hereby dedicate this fanfiction to all my lovely ficcers on IMDB who know who they are. Without their jokes, kind words, praise and just plain weirdness (and the fact they ignore my hideous spellings) I would never have published this fiction, let alone ever finished it.

And thank you who have reviewed this or even just read a few chapters...and to those who will in future.

* * *

Oliver bordered the Hogwarts Express with a very heavy heart. He followed Marino into a compartment, cradling baby Alex in his arms close to his chest and sat down near the window.

Marino and Percy sat opposite him, holding hands and also staring back at the castle. Their home.

Fred and George entered quietly and sat down next to Oliver, not really knowing what to say.

Oliver hadn't spoken to anyone since last night. Dumbledore had called him to his office and spoke comforting words to him but Oliver had nothing to say in response. Dumbledore gave Oliver Paris' belongings to take home to keep for himself or give to Molly Weasley.

"Goodbye Hogwarts," Marino sighed as the train began pulling out of Hogsmeade station. The three seventh years were now completely free from school but it wasn't a joyous occasion like it should be.

Alex began grumbling and Oliver did his best to soothe him but he just screamed louder.

"Here," Marino said softly, holding her arms out for him. Oliver carefully passed him over and Marino quieted him almost immediately.

Oliver put his face in his hands. He was so tired, he had sat in Gryffindor common room all night wide awake, thinking and regretting and remembering. He felt dead himself, he could walk and breathe but he felt nothing.

He was completely and utterly alone now with a baby. He had no idea how to manage a baby by himself. He could've done it with Paris, he could've done anything with Paris but he was desperately alone.

"Come on mate, I'll get you something off the trolley. You haven't eaten a thing all day," Fred said gently, putting a hand on Oliver's shoulder. He got up and left the compartment with George in search of the food trolley.

Marino was willing Alex to go to sleep, rocking him in her arms and soothing him. Something Paris was supposed to be doing.

Oliver looked out the window at the passing green lands and corn fields and realised once more he would never pass this way on the express again.

Fred and George reappeared a while later with cauldron cakes and pumpkin pasties for everyone.

"Checked in on the girls," George said, passing Marino a cake.

"And?" Marino replied, smiling gratefully as she received her cake.

"The same as this morning," George replied, sitting down and blowing out his cheeks.

Angelina, Alicia and Katie had taken the news very hard and had been inconsolable for the whole day.

"Heavens," Marino sighed, using the Muggle phrase Paris always used to say before she got used to 'Merlin.'

When Hogwarts Express pulled into Kings Cross, everyone slowly got up and gathered their things. Oliver held Alex close to him, a big part of him not wanting to get off the train.

Oliver hopped off the train, surrounded by students all rushing to see their families.

"Keep in touch Wood," Roger Davies said as he passed, giving him a pat on the back as he hurried passed. "Good luck."

A couple more good-byes were shared between Oliver and his friends but he just couldn't reply to anything they said. Alyssia gave him a tearful good-bye which made his eyes prick painfully with tears but he blinked them back.

Oliver walked through Platform Nine and Three Quarters with Marino next to him with her arm around his waist. Alex began crying again and when Oliver saw his mother standing waiting for him, his emotion over come him.

Long awaited tears fell down Oliver's face and Marino grabbed the baby as Oliver threw his arms around his mother and sobbed into her shoulder.

Lorraine Wood, quite over-shadowed by her youngest son did her very best to console him, feeling his grief radiate off him.

"I'm so sorry Oliver. I'm so, so sorry," She said quietly to him, rubbing his back. Her usually gruff, eighteen year old son was going to pieces in the middle of a Muggle station and he really didn't care.

Fred and George were huddled against their mother, also crying along with Molly.

Everyone had been holding it in but now it was as if the flood gates were thrown open wide for everyone.

Marino was sobbing again as her mother held Alex with one hand and her daughter with the other. Sapphire and Opal were holding their father's hand, not knowing what to do and just joined in with the crying for good measure.

Percy was not crying but was being hugged by his father none the less.

Marino left her mother and put her arms around Percy and cried onto his chest again as Percy patted her back lovingly and smoothed her hair which she hadn't bothered to style that morning.

Molly had grabbed Oliver and was holding him tightly while he finished crying. He stood up straight after a few minutes and wiped his eyes on his sleeves, looking at Mrs. Weasley as the silent grief engulfed him. He would not cry again for her.

"You go home Oliver, be with your family," Molly said quietly, holding his face in her hands.

"I'm so sorry," Oliver said in a shaky voice. Marino and Percy looked up at him, it was the first time he'd spoken.

"It wasn't your fault. Don't you dare blame yourself. You gave her everything she could ever ask for, you did nothing wrong," Molly said firmly. She looked at Oliver who was just standing in front of her, completely lost.

"Come on love," Oliver's mum said gently, putting a hand on his shoulder and giving Molly a grateful smile.

Oliver looked at Fred and George to Marino and Percy and gave them a small, acknowledged nod before turning and leaving with his mother who was carrying the baby.

Thursday August first was a beautiful day.

Oliver was sat on Paris' bed, looking out of her window and deciding she had a beautiful view of her village from her bedroom.

He reached over and plucked her Head Girl badge from her window sill and turned it over in his hands, feeling the coolness of it. He smiled and put it back, remembering his first day back as a Seventh year and the way Paris had came and greeted him before jinxing Fred. How the first moment he saw her, he let out a sigh of relief because he'd been missing her all summer but the wait had been worth it as she was more beautiful that day than any other day beforehand. From then on, she simply got more and more beautiful in his eyes.

On her desk, there were about six framed pictures. One of the Gryffindor team – the last team picture he and Paris were ever on. Some of her and the twins. One of her and Charlie cuddling and grinning. One of her and Marino pouting and playing up to the camera and one of Oliver himself, grinning bashfully.

Nestled between the pictures was the folded up, crumpled picture of the Mona Lisa Paris always used to carry around. Oliver plucked it from the desk and carefully unfolded it.

He never found out how long she'd actually had this or whether she carried it every day but it was amongst the things Marino had brought down from her dormitory.

Oliver folded it back up and sighed. She'd never seen the real thing, only a picture.

Oliver rested his elbows on his knees and put his head in his hands. They had planned to get married today but instead, his bride to be was buried.

The pain was still there, as fresh as that night it happened but apparently, Oliver was dealing with it. How anyone could deal with a death of someone as much loved as Paris was beyond Oliver but he nodded his head anyway and put on the brave face everyone expected to see.

Oliver was entitled to grieve and he would do for as long as he needed. He didn't know what the future held, what would happen to him and Alex. He had been angry at first at Paris, for leaving him then in denial. Now he was going through the painful, miserable, horrible grieving process.

Oliver got up to leave but stopped near Paris' drawers. The top one was open slightly and he pulled out a light pink shirt, feeling the soft material. He brought it to his face and breathed in the familiar smell as deeply as possible.

When Oliver took it away to replace, he felt his eyes were wet. He carefully placed the shirt back in her drawer, touched a silky scarf that was hanging off one of the drawer handles and opened her bedroom door.

With one last look, he left and went down the stairs.

Mrs. Weasley looked up from the worktop as Oliver entered the kitchen and gave him a small smile as he walked over to her.

"Had enough time? You can stay all day if you want," Molly said quietly.

"For today. Erm, can I come back? Please?" Oliver said awkwardly.

"Of course," Molly said, taking Oliver by his upper arms. "You are welcome any time, come as often as you please." Oliver could see the tears welling up in her eyes as she spoke so he pulled her into a hug.

"What did you take?" Molly asked when Oliver released her.

"Nothing. Her things belong here," Oliver replied gently and Molly gave him a brave smile.

Oliver went and took Alex from George, who was sitting with him at the table. He rocked his baby gently and went outside to the back garden for some quiet.

He sat on the garden bench, chattering nonsense to Alex as he looked around the garden.

"It's me and you, kid," Oliver said quietly, laying his son in his arms so Oliver could look down at him. Alex was blinking sleepily in the sunlight.

"We'll manage, I'll take care of you and never let anything happen to you. No-one will ever hurt you or make you feel less than what you are. Daddy will make sure," Oliver said softly to Alex, who was now looking at him with wide eyes. He really did look like Paris, it was almost strange.

Oliver put his fore finger into Alex's tiny palm and his curled his tiny fingers around it.

Oliver smiled at his baby, feeling nothing but love for him. He looked up at the trees surrounding the garden as they rustled slightly in the soft summer breeze. Oliver smiled again as he felt it on his bare arms and face.

"I think Mummy's going to make sure as well," Oliver whispered and got up from the bench and went back inside.

**The End.**


End file.
